


Othered

by thewhiitelotus



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: AU, Adventures, Aged-Up Character(s), Blood and Injury, F/M, Found Family, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Trauma, bending is still a thing, but it's different, descriptions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 123,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26089243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewhiitelotus/pseuds/thewhiitelotus
Summary: Katara lives a simple life, as is demanded by the society that has pushed her out and cast her aside. But her whole world will change when a stranger with glowing gold eyes wanders into her tiny village with a story of greater evil. Zuko is on a quest of upmost importance, and he's going to need Katara's help if they want to save the world from certain destruction. Adventure, love, mystery, and danger awaits the two of them as they travel the country in search of a way to save their world, even if it doesn't want them.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 279
Kudos: 234
Collections: Will Read Later





	1. The Traveler

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends! i'm excited to be back with a story of my own creation that i hope you all will enjoy. i've been working on this since before i finished The Ocean and The Sun, but unfortunately i won't be updating every day (sorry friends). i'm so hyped to bring this story to you all, and i can't wait to get into it. so, here goes!

“Where is he?” 

Katara alternates between tapping her foot, bouncing her leg, and pacing to try to burn off some of her anxiety, but the stubborn nervousness refuses to extricate itself from her mind. Sokka was supposed to be at her doorstep earlier this morning with a large bag of wheat in tow, but he has yet to arrive even as the sun lowers hastily towards the horizon. The small house is too silent, and has been for hours now; she’s tried to be patient, wanting to avoid going into town unless she absolutely has to, but it’s looking more and more like she has no other options. Blue glowing eyes dart to the sinking sun slanting through the window, golden light bathing the simple furniture in a dewy sheen, and Katara lets a tired groan slip from her throat. It’s dangerous for her to go into town, and Sokka knows this. Usually he’s good about bringing her whatever supplies and food items she may need, knowing that her glowing eyes will assuredly give her away at the bustling open air market in the village square, but it’s looking like she has no choice but to go into town herself.

The worn chair scrapes on the floor as she pushes it back, and her anxiety mounts as she fetches her coin purse and a navy shawl from her room. She glances at herself in the old mirror hanging on her wall, her distinct eyes staring back at her no matter how much she tries to hide them with her long unruly hair. It’s not the color that makes them stand out; plenty of people in town have blue eyes, but the ever present glow in her irises is impossible to miss. Most of the time she doesn’t mind being Othered, even if being shunned to the edge of her little village has been a thorn in her side since she was fourteen. She loves swirling her water around, the sparkling light from the sun bouncing off of it and throwing myriad colors around her when she has a moment to simply relax, but the dangers that come with her gift make it hard for Katara to truly appreciate it. It’s incredibly useful around the house, making for her chores and daily work on the small farm she calls her own immensely easier than they would be otherwise, but there’s always a whispering desire in her mind, an incessant wish to be normal buzzing around her like a persistent fly. Nobody but her family dares come near her, and loneliness has become a haunting staple in her days, the pervasive emptiness pricking like pins at every thought she has. The last eight years have been quiet and boring, her days blending together into a grey sameness, broken only by the occasional trip into town that either results in hostile glares and a wide berth from the townspeople, or angry shouts trailing her as she runs back to the safety of her home.

“You can’t come with me, Speckle.” Her cat brushes up against her leg as she makes her way towards the door. She runs her hand along his soft fur, always marvelling at his beautiful orange and black coat. He trills softly at her before sitting down next to the door, taking his usual place as sentinel until she returns.

She plucks her wide brimmed straw hat off of it’s hook, her disguise always resting in its permanent place next to the door, and steps out into the chill of early spring. The heavy shawl she wears flutters around her with the gentle breeze, a chill seeping into her bones before she pulls it closer to her chest and sets out into the village. Golden hour light drenches the small village, the last dredges of snow sparkling where they cling to the roofs of modest houses that grow more frequent the farther into town she gets. The market square is located in the center of the village, and is always bustling with people no matter the season. Katara loves the outdoor market, and laments the fact that she can’t spend more than a few minutes there without getting heckled. The sweet smell of sticky buns, the sounds of villagers calling out their wares and haggling prices, and the children weaving through the throngs of people create a certain atmosphere, a liveliness and warmth that permeates even the coldest of winter days. She strides with purpose among the stalls, her straw hat pulled down to hide her eyes from everyone as much as possible. She knows that the stall owner will most likely see her eyes, and that the wary looks and the whispers that are just loud enough to carry will start as soon as she makes her purchase. 

“One large bag of wheat, please.” The shop owner thankfully doesn’t look her in the eye as her hand comes up to pull her hat down ever so slightly more.

“Four copper.” The shop owner plops the large bag onto the stall counter with a resounding  _ thunk _ as Katara pulls out her coins. “Do you want someone to carry this for you? It’s quite heavy.” The man tries to catch her eye, but Katara manages to tilt her head at just the right moment to avoid his gaze.

“Oh, no thank you, sir.” She sets her coins on the counter and adjusts her shawl. “I’m stronger than I look.” She bends slightly at the knees and lifts the large canvas bag, resting part of it over one shoulder. The bag catches on the brim of her hat, knocking it off kilter for just a moment before she can readjust it, but she knows she’s been caught when the shop owner’s face turns sour.  _ Shit.  _

She turns away in haste, hoping to escape the market before the shop owner has time to make everyone else aware of her presence. People start to give her a wider birth as she makes her way through the square, and by the time she leaves the market area, people are staring after her, the weight of their collective gaze heavier than three bags of wheat piled atop her back. She quickens her steps on the walk back out to her home, shivering as the cool breeze rides in with the setting sun and penetrates her worn-out shawl. She passes two older women on her way, who are luckily too absorbed in their own conversation to notice her.

“Did you hear about the traveler?” Katara slows her pace to eavesdrop on their conversation; they hardly ever get people travelling through the village.

“Oh, yes. He’s Othered, isn’t he?” The blood slows to a crawl in her veins, her stride stuttering at the woman’s words.

“Yes, and what a shame.” One of the women  _ tsks _ . “He’s so handsome. Or, he would be if it wasn’t for that horrible scar. And the eyes, of course.” Katara’s heart is pounding, the blood now rushing through her veins so loud that she can hear it in her ears.  _ He’s Othered? _ She’s never met anyone else like her, and her curiosity takes on an alarming intensity. She pauses for just a moment before deciding to find the traveler, and heads back towards the market. 

The weight of the large bag across her chest is almost entirely forgotten as her feet move, quickly carrying her of their own accord back towards the market square. It’s a dangerous move; the people there had seen her eyes, and will no doubt get angry if she tries to reenter. Katara knows from past experience that the townsfolk aren’t above resorting to violence to rid them of her presence. 

As she approaches, the sounds of the market have taken on a different quality than the usual lively hum, one of hushed caution and thinly veiled hostility, and she knows that the man must be here. She skirts around the edge of the square, doing her best to stay partially hidden as she tries to look through the crowd, taking notice of any areas that are strangely empty. 

She’s about to turn a corner when the crowd thins just enough for her to see him. He’s tall, probably about the same height as her brother, and wearing a dark cloak with the hood drawn. If it weren't for the increasing volume of voices and large amount of empty space around him, she probably wouldn’t have even known that he was Othered. She stands stock still, her eyes perilously wide, their glow on full display as she stares at the man. He turns sharply, and before she can even move, their eyes meet; glowing blue, and a beautiful gold that shines brighter than a sunset. Panic bursts under her skin, urging her to spin on her heel and start walking as fast as she can away from the crowd.  _ At least if he follows me, we won’t be trapped in the danger of the market. _

“Wait!” The man calls out from behind her, his voice low and raspy, the sounds mingling with that of his pounding footsteps as he runs towards her, but she doesn’t stop.

She doesn’t look back either, and instead rounds a corner into an alley and drops her hefty bag onto the ground so that she can rest her hand on the short sword she always keeps on her person. The man appears before her, his hood pushed back revealing shaggy black hair, and he stares at her openly as he catches his breath. She takes in his face; a reddish scar covers his left eye, reaching up towards his hairline and back across his temple, stopping just below his high cheekbone, but it does nothing to dull the glow in his eyes. They shine a bright gold, the unique color amplified by the unmistakable glow that marks them as Othered, and they’re stunning in the greyness of the alley. His skin is pale, cheeks a rosy pink from running after her, and he really is very handsome, even with the scar. He has a straight nose, and dark lashes rim his right eye, the contrast with his skin making it look almost porcelain. She realizes she’s been staring at him for quite some time, but it seems that he doesn’t notice, as he’s been staring at her too. 

Words escape her; what do you say to the only other person like you that you’ve ever met? What do you say to the first new person in your life that doesn’t look at you with fear or disgust? How do you bridge a gap between yourself and a stranger who possibly understands you better than anyone else?

“Hi.” At some point the man had gotten closer; they’re just a few feet apart, and his low voice shatters the silence they had been hiding in. She realizes again that he’s tall, and she has to tilt her chin upwards to look into his bright eyes.

“Hi,” she replies, a little breathless as the reality of the situation seeps back into the moment as the sky turns darker with the setting sun. “Do you want to—” she points over her shoulder with her thumb, hoping that the man will understand her vague gesture, since her mouth seems to be out-of-order.

“Yeah.” 

Katara isn't sure if he fully understands what he’s agreeing to as he nods, but it’s good enough for her. She hears Sokka’s voice in her head, warning her about taking strange men back to her home, but she knows in her gut that this man isn’t dangerous. Maybe it’s the softness in his golden eyes, maybe it’s the way his right is blown wide even still, the left just a little more pronounced. She can’t put to words why she knows this man won’t hurt her, but she knows that she’s right. She bends down to pick up the bag of wheat, and the man takes a step towards her.

“I can get that for you.” He sounds hesitant, like he isn’t quite sure what he’s doing here either.

“Sure.” He hauls the bag up over his shoulder with ease. “Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem.” He shrugs under the weight of the sack, and Katara pulls her hat back down over her eyes as they exit the alley. The man reaches for his hood and drapes it over his head, the front falling low on his face and almost completely hiding his eyes. Almost. 

“What’s your name?” she inquires as they make their way towards her home, the sky warm with hues of pink and orange as the sun slips lower under the horizon.

“Zuko.” She likes the sounds of his name. People’s names in her village all sound similar; she’s never heard a name like Zuko before. “What’s yours?”

“Katara.” He nods, and they continue the trek in silence. 

Twilight has fallen around them by the time they reach Katara’s house. She opens the door to let Zuko in, and closes it quickly to keep the chill out. Instructing him to drop the hefty bag by the door, Katara goes to light the lantern, the slight traces of sunlight outside not enough to brighten the main room of her home. 

“Here, let me—” Zuko steps up behind her and reaches his arm around towards the lantern. He uses his thumb and forefinger to pinch the wick, and with a small upwards tugging motion, it catches fire, casting a warm glow throughout the room.

“Oh.” She’s never seen anyone else use their gift, and it sends a strange shiver through her as she watches the tiny flame. “Can— can you light the fireplace too?”

“Sure.” He walks over to the hearth and squats down on the balls of his feet. He brings his hand up to his face and blows past his open palm, almost like he’s blowing a kiss, but when he breathes out, sparks materialize from the air and float into the fireplace, the logs inside quickly catching and flaring to life. 

“Wow.” Zuko stands up and turns to her with a small, lopsided grin. “I’ve never met anyone else like me before. That’s incredible.” She understands now the awe that her family had exhibited when she had first shown them her gift; it’s beautiful and otherworldly, and she can see why people would fear it.

“Me neither.” He returns to where she stands in the kitchen area. “What do you— I mean, what’s your—”

“Oh!” She’s glad that Zuko is just as flustered as she is, otherwise she’d feel extremely embarrassed for how she’s bumbling through her sentences. “Would you like some tea?” She lifts the cap off of her beat-up teapot, and, moving the fingers of one hand similar to how one would play a harp, she siphons water from the clean bucket in the corner into the pot. She looks up at Zuko; a flush creeps onto her cheeks as his eyes widen as a smile pulls across his face.

“That’s amazing.”

Her blush deepens at the undiluted awe displayed on his face, and she shrugs as she adds the tea leaves and moves to put the kettle onto the stovetop.

“Would you?” She gestures to the stove, and Zuko moves closer before once again blowing sparks out from his palm to light up the stove. “That’s very convenient.”

“Yeah.” A shadow pulls over his face, and Katara finds that she misses the bright smile that had resided there moments before.

“Sit.” She pulls out a chair at her kitchen table and gestures to the one across from her. “We don't usually get travellers in the village. Are you here for something specific?”

“No.” He takes off his cloak and drapes it across the back of the chair before sitting down. His shirt is a simple dark red, and looks much too thin to actually be keeping him warm. “Well, I’m looking for something, but I didn’t really think I would find it here.”

“There’s not much of interest here.” Speckle jumps up into Katara’s lap and rubs his face into her hand to coax her into petting him. “I’m not surprised you didn’t find what you were looking for.”

“I found you.” Now her face is really hot, and she sees a matching hue making its home on Zuko’s cheeks. “Not that I was looking for you! I mean, I’m glad that I found you, but I wasn’t, like, stalking you or anything. I didn’t even know you existed.” She has a hard time holding back her smile; it’s almost cute to see the once-stranger flounder with his words. “Sorry. I don’t interact with people very often.”

“It’s okay. I don’t either.” She gives him a small smile, his mirroring gesture birthing a small tingling feeling in her stomach.

“We make quite a pair,” he mumbles.

She laughs softly at his accurate assessment, and the awkwardness of before dissipates like the cold in the heat of the hearth with his words. She sees the tea boiling and uses her fingers to draw it out of the kettle, swiveling her wrist to guide it into the two mugs she has set out on the table. Speckle jumps up to inspect Zuko’s full mug, sniffing the tea and moving his little head back sharply when he realizes that it’s hot.

“What’s your cat's name?”

“Speckle.” Zuko reaches to scratch under the cat’s chin, eliciting a purr as Speckle makes himself comfortable on the table next to Zuko. “He likes to play with the water while I move it around. He makes a total fool of himself.” Speckle looks right at her, as if he understands her words and is upset at the barb.

“He’s very cute.” Zuko continues to pet the cat as he takes a sip of his tea.

“So, what were you actually looking for?” she asks around her mug, the warmth seeping into her hands as she cradles it close to her chest.

“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.” Something changes in his face, but she doesn’t quite know what it is.

“Try me.”

He lets out a sigh. “I’m looking for The Source.” Katara raises a brow, and he continues. “The Source is… well, it’s the source of our gifts. Everyone who’s Othered gets their gift from The Source.”

“Huh.” She takes another sip of her tea. “That doesn’t sound too crazy. Why are you trying to find it?”

“Someone is trying to destroy it.” A crease forms between her eyebrows as Zuko continues, “The Source is responsible for the gifts Othered have, but it’s existence is important to the balance of the whole world. If it were to be destroyed, everything would fall into chaos.”

“Why would someone want to destroy it? I mean, I understand that nobody likes us—” he nods in affirmation— “but if it’s going to screw up the whole world, what’s the point?”

“The man who wants to destroy it is the King of Ember.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Ember is a big city way south of here. The King...” Zuko’s warm eyes turn hard, the glow more pronounced now that night has descended upon them. The hearth throws flickering light onto his back and leaves his face in shadow. “He’s a cruel man. And he wants to destroy The Source so that, in the ensuing calamity, he can take control of as much land as he can.”

“What? So he wants to control the world?” Her incredulousness bleeds through her words as Zuko nods. “Do you think he could actually do it?”

“Do you want to find out?” he asks, voice cold and sharp, the threat of the King’s quest tangible in the small space between them.

“Not really, no. But once you find The Source, how are you going to protect it? You’re just one guy.” The anger drains from his face, leaving a tiredness in its wake that looks like it goes bone deep.

“I have no idea. I just know that I have to try.” 

Silence falls upon them as they finish their tea. The cat still lies on the table next to Zuko, purring contentedly as if the world hasn’t turned a shade darker since Katara had left to get the sack of wheat almost two hours ago.

The fire burns away in the hearth as Katara runs through everything that’s happened in the last few hours. Having to go into the village had been enough of a stressor, and even if Zuko had been a regular person, a traveler coming through was the most exciting thing that had happened in the village in months. On top of that, the traveler is Othered, just like her, has an elemental gift just like her, and is on some sort of magnificent quest to save the world.  _ This is too much for one day.  _

“I should probably find somewhere to stay the night.” The two of them look out the window at Zuko’s words. The darkness of night is draped over the world like a shroud, broken only by the flickering lanterns in the far away heart of the village.

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to.” She knows by the look on his face that he’s familiar with these circumstances. “Everyone saw your face earlier in the market, and word spreads fast here. You’d be hard pressed to find someone to rent you a room. People here are already wary of strangers, and since you’re Othered…” She trails off, but the unspoken words are easily understood.  _ You’re shit out of luck. _

“Fuck.” He scrubs his face and pushes his hair back, letting his hand rest at the base of his neck.

“I have a small barn out back,” Katara says before she can think better of it. “You can stay there tonight if you want. I have blankets and stuff you can put down so that you don’t have to sleep on the ground.”

“Are you sure?” Something in her just can’t let him wander off into the dark, can’t let him spend the night out in the chill air alone and unsure of his path.

“Of course. Are you hungry? I still have to make dinner.” He nods his head, and Katara gets up to start preparing the food.

“Can I help?” Zuko is standing awkwardly at the table, and Speckle, having jumped down onto the floor at his rising, is now making his way over to weave between Katara’s legs.

“Sure.” She waves him over to her counter and hands him a knife. “I’ll wash the vegetables and you can chop them up. Sound good?” He nods, and she siphons some water into a large pot sitting on the stove. “Light that for me?” Zuko blows his gentle sparks onto the stove, the fire coming to life under the pot.

They work in relative silence, Katara manipulating the water to clean the various vegetables and handing them to Zuko, who then chops them up into bite sized pieces. The work is much quicker with two people, and in no time they have a pile of prepped food waiting to be thrown into the pot. 

“It might take a while for the water to boil,” she states as she stands over the large pot, throwing herbs and seasonings into the water. “Unless you can help with that?” She smirks at him over her shoulder, not expecting him to be so close, and has to look up to see his grin.

“Actually, I can.” He moves closer to the pot, and waves his hand like he’s instructing someone to rise. The cookfire grows bigger, enough so that the very tips of the flames tickle the edges of the pot.

“Oh.” Katara marvels at the control he has over his element; she’s never tried to sustain her control over water like this, and she watches him closely, noticing his even breathing moving his broad chest beneath his shirt. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice is low, and she can almost feel it vibrating through him as he stands next to her. She realizes that she should probably step away, but she’s entranced as she watches the water come to a boil, the tiny bubbles sitting at the bottom growing bigger and floating to the top in no time at all. “Shouldn’t you put the vegetables in now?”

“Oh!” She blushes as she fetches the vegetables, embarrassed that she had been so preoccupied with the boiling water— definitely not Zuko’s rising and falling chest— that she had forgotten why they were boiling it in the first place. “You can sit, we have to let the vegetables simmer so that they can cook right.” The cookfire returns to its normal state as Katara drops the vegetables into the pot, adding a little bit of flour to thicken the broth and make it a little more hearty.

“You should come with me,” he says, breaking the brief silence that had overcome them.

“Come with you where?” She sits back down at the table, adjusting her shawl and pulling it tighter around her.

“To The Source.” Her brows rise up to her hairline as she crosses her legs and leans back in her seat.

“Seriously?” She can’t help the incredulous tone that seeps into her voice. “I just met you.”

“I know.” Zuko rubs the back of his neck. “But what else are you doing? Just sitting around waiting for life to happen? It’s not just gonna show up on your doorstep one day.”

“Well, that’s kind of how you showed up,” she teases, and he rolls his eyes. The unexpected satisfaction of getting under his skin flows through her as she smirks in response.

“Will you at least think about it?” 

She should say no; she just met Zuko a few hours ago, and she shouldn’t be contemplating going on some sort of life changing adventure with a man she hardly knows.

“What would you do if I said no?” She swears she sees his eyes dull just the slightest bit before he answers.

“I don’t know. Go it alone, I guess.” He sighs and turns to look out of the small window. “I need to find a way to make some more money. I’ll have to find a job or something before I can head out again. I need to buy some more food, at least.”

“How about this—” she leans forward, bracing her elbows on the table— “I’ll pay you to work the farm for me for a little while, that way I can focus on making things that I can sell to get myself some more money. And while you’re here I’ll think about your offer.”

“Really? You’d do that?” Zuko sounds positively elated, the smile on his face warming Katara more than the fire from the hearth ever has.

“Sure.” She shrugs, trying to hold her own smile back. “Why not? Can’t hurt to make some more money, and you need money too, so I think it’s a win-win.”

“Thank you, Katara.” He takes both of her hands in his, and she can feel the calluses against her soft skin. Blood rushes to her cheeks in an embarrassing flush. “I won’t let you down.” The seriousness in his eyes is softened by an undercurrent of warmth, and the strange urge to hold his gaze hits her like a wave, the desire to know every color and speck of light in that golden glow gone just as fast as it came.

They finish dinner in relative silence as an alien excitement floods Katara’s mind the more she thinks about everything that’s happened today. She gathers a number of blankets, handing most of them to Zuko for him to carry, and leads him out to the modest barn on the far side of her small plot of land.

“It’s not much. You can lay out some of the blankets on some hay and it shouldn’t be too bad.” She feels bad sticking him in the barn, but she isn’t about to let a total stranger sleep on her floor, no matter how pretty he may be.

“This is more than enough.” He puts some of the blankets down and takes the others from her, the exchange somehow gentle as he pulls the blankets from her grasp. “Thank you again for your hospitality.”

“Don’t mention it.” She stands awkwardly in front of him, her hands clasped in front of her so that she won’t fidget. “I’ll come get you tomorrow for breakfast and then show you how to work the farm.”

“Okay.” Neither move as they stand facing each other, the chilled air hanging around them, the outside breeze stifled by the walls of the barn. “Goodnight, Katara.”

“Goodnight Zuko.” She turns around and walks out of the barn, trying to understand why her heart is hammering wildly in her chest.


	2. The House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a heads up, there is a brief mention of abuse in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos! they make my day ☺❤

  
  


Zuko is already awake the next day when Katara comes to get him and is well underway with his daily  _ kata _ . He’s practiced various forms of martial arts since he was a child, and going through his  _ kata _ every morning after his meditation is one of the only things he has been able to keep the same now as it was in his old life. It’s also one of the only things he actually  _ wants _ to keep from his old life, and he uses it to help him forget almost everything else from his days back in Ember.

“Oh.” Katara hasn’t stepped fully into the barn when she spots him in the middle of his forty-second move. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“That’s alright. I was almost done anyway.”

“What were you doing?” she asks, and shuts the barn door behind her, blocking out the chill of the early morning.

“I was practicing my forms.” He pulls his overshirt back on. “I go through my  _ kata  _ every morning after I meditate— it helps me stay focused throughout the day.”

“That sounds interesting.” To her credit, she does sound genuinely interested. “What’s a  _ kata _ ?”

“It’s just a group of movements or forms practiced in sequence.” He shrugs and follows her out of the barn into the soft light of the newly risen sun.

“Neat.” 

They walk back into Katara’s small home, and Speckle meows and runs to the door to meet them. The hearth still has embers in it from last night’s fire, and he stokes the flames with a small movement of his hand.

“I was just about to make breakfast, and then I’ll show you around the farm and tell you what you need to know.” She bends down to scoop up the cat, cradling him to her chest like she would a baby.

“Can I help at all?” He can’t stand just hanging around and doing nothing while others work— a far cry from how he grew up as a child, always being waited on hand and foot. The past few years out on his own have made him self sufficient, and the feeling of being taken care of is foriegn and strange.

“Well, you already got the fire in the hearth going. If you want to start the cookfire on the stove that would be nice.” He walks over and blows embers onto the kindling on the stove, watching the flames bloom as he stands back up. “And here—” Katara shoves the cat into his arms, and Zuko takes the armful of fluff with nothing but a look of surprise. “He’s always trying to get into the eggs. So just, hold him while I cook. He’s a glutton for attention, so he won’t bite or anything.”

Zuko holds the cat to his chest like he had seen Katara do just moments before. Speckle’s lemongrass eyes squint up at him as he purrs without a care in the world. 

“I’ve never seen a cat with this coloring before. It’s beautiful.” He scritches under Speckle’s chin, marvelling at the straight line split down the center of the cat's face, the left side entirely black, and the right a bright mottled orange.

“It’s a rare pattern, and almost none of the cats with that coat are ever male.” The eggs sizzle in the heavy pan as Katara speaks. “He was a stray that came to my door one day after I had just moved in here by myself. Poor thing was all matted, and he seemed so scared. I figured we were both lonely, so I might as well keep him. He’s been my little buddy ever since.”

“Seems like you take in a lot of strays.” Speckle paws at Zuko’s face, pulling it down so he can rub his soft little cheek on Zuko’s chin. “We’re two of a kind, you and me,” he mumbles to the cat, the words not meant for Katara’s ears. He can’t help but notice the parallels between Speckle and himself; a split face, a lost stray, stumbling blindly into Katara’s home.  _ What does it say about me that I have more in common with a cat than any human I know? _

Katara serves up breakfast, putting a small dish with a tiny scoop of eggs on the floor for Speckle, who squirms in Zuko’s arms and runs over to the eggs as soon as he’s let onto the ground. 

“I have to give him some, otherwise he’ll try to eat off of our plates.” Katara rolls her eyes, and Zuko chuckles at the mental image of the cat fighting him for his breakfast— he has a feeling that Speckle would give him a run for his money.

They eat in companionable silence, somehow maneuvering around any awkward moments without too much hassle. Katara asks him a fair amount about his home life, but he keeps his answers vague. He’s not about to talk about his fucked up family with a girl he met twelve hours ago just because she let him sleep in her barn. They’re just about done when a solid knock sounds at the door.

“Oh, wonderful little sister of mine!” A man opens the door without waiting for Katara to even get up— based on his loving introduction, it must be Katara’s brother. Even if he hadn’t announced himself, the resemblance between the two is obvious. His blue eyes match Katara’s— although they miss the signature glow— and his bone structure is very similar to his sister’s, the angles just a bit sharper, the shape just a bit broader. The man’s eyes narrow as he spots Zuko, who rises from his seat immediately. “Who’s this?” His tone is icy, a flipped switch from the sing-song tune of his entry.

“Sokka, this is Zuko.” Katara introduces him, and Sokka’s eyes fall onto Zuko’s, his gaze heavy.

“You’re Othered too.” Zuko nods, a lump in his throat that he can’t budge preventing him from speaking.

“He came into town yesterday. I ran into him while I was out  _ buying wheat _ ,” she chides. Her brother’s face turns sheepish as Katara braces her hands on her hips in a very motherly gesture. “Which I wouldn’t have had to do if  _ someone _ had kept their promise and brought some to me in the morning.”

“I got caught up hunting with dad!” Sokka holds up a gutted rabbit corpse tied by its ankles. “I brought you some meat?”

“Uhg.” Katara snatches the rabbit out of his hands and tosses it unceremoniously onto the counter. 

“So why is this guy in your house?” Sokka moves to sit down, his eyes still trained upon Zuko as he sits down as well.

“Well, where else was he going to stay?”

“He stayed here?!” Sokka’s eyes bulge as he whips around to look at Katara. “Like, overnight?!”

“Okay, first of all,” Katara holds a finger up in front of her face, “I'm twenty four years old, I can have anyone I want stay the night  _ in my own home.”  _ Zuko swallows past the frog in his throat, the implication of Katara’s words making him nervous like he hasn’t been in a very long time. “And second of all, he stayed in the barn. He’s going to be helping me out on the farm for a little while.”

“Who’s going to be helping on the farm?” A kind voice drifts over to the trio from the doorway, succeeded by a friendly looking old woman. Zuko stands up from his seat again, the manners drilled into his brain due to a life of privilege. 

“Gran Gran, this is Zuko,” Katara sighs, repeating the introduction with a little less enthusiasm. “I met him while he was travelling through the village yesterday.” 

The old woman approaches him, a shrewd look in her eye as she takes in his appearance, her gaze barely pausing at the glowing gold of his eyes. “Zuko. That’s an interesting name.”

“Yes ma’am.”  _ What am I supposed to say to that?  _ He sees Sokka roll his eyes, but says nothing.

“Zuko needs to make some extra money before he leaves the village, and with him taking care of the farm I can focus on making some blankets and stuff to sell for some extra money of my own.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea!” There’s something in the old woman’s eyes that he can’t quite put his finger on. “You can call me Kanna. And sit down, dear.” She waves her hand at him, and he sits down obediently. “How long will you stay?”

“Uh...” He hasn’t actually thought about that, now that the woman mentions it. “I’m not sure.”

“I think three weeks should get you enough money to sustain yourself out on the road.” He wonders how Katara’s grandmother— Kanna, he reminds himself— knows how much money he’ll need for an almost impossible quest, but he knows no better than she does, so he doesn’t question it.

“Three weeks?!” Sokka shrieks, and is on his feet in a blink, holding out the chair he had previously been occupying for Kanna to sit in. “You’re going to let a stranger sleep in your barn for three weeks?!”

“Sokka, can you relax? Besides, at the end of three weeks, he won’t exactly be a stranger anymore.” Katara smiles at him in defiance of her brother, and Zuko can feel his insides turn mushy with its warmth.

“What were you even doing, wandering through the village? There’s nothing you could possibly want to see here.” Sokka’s arms are crossed defensively over his chest.

“I was just passing through.” He chooses his words carefully, noticing Sokka’s eyebrow raising. “I saw Katara from the market and I just…”  _ Couldn’t look away? Couldn’t believe there was someone else like me? Had never seen anyone more beautiful? _ “I’ve never known anyone like me before. I just wanted to talk to her.”

“And that’s perfectly fine, and this conversation is over.” Katara crosses her arms almost at the same time that Sokka uncrosses his. “I invited Zuko here and I'm allowing him to stay. The rest is none of your business.”

“Fine.” Sokka’s hands raise into the air in a placating gesture. “I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”

“I know.” Katara’s voice turns soft as she lays her hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “You’re just a little over protective.”

“What are big brothers for?” Zuko has to blink back tears thinking about his little sister.  _ I left her there. I left her there to be abused and beaten and— _

“Well.” Kanna’s voice breaks him out of his cyclical thoughts, a knowing glint in her eye as she looks at Zuko. “I think we should get going, Sokka. Katara needs to show her friend here around the farm.” She stands slowly from her chair and smiles at Zuko.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Kanna.” He rises from his seat again. “You too, Sokka.”

“Yeah, sure.” The other man looks at him skeptically as he leads Kanna towards the door. Katara must mouth something at him, because he waves his hand at her in a dismissive motion before smirking and heading out.

Silence befalls the little house, the energetic air that had blown in with Katara’s brother and Gran Gran seeping back out through the crack under the door, leaving the two of them standing awkwardly next to each other.

“Sorry about that,” Katara apologizes as she turns to Zuko. “Sokka can be really overprotective sometimes.”

“It’s alright.” Sokka’s words float around in his head, unforgiving and leaving bruises in his mind.  _ What are big brothers for? _

“Anyway, I’ll show you around outside.”

Xx

A little less than a week into his stay, Zuko is starting to feel more comfortable around Katara. He’s become familiar with the animals, and they seem to be warming up to him nicely. She showed him how to milk her cow, Luna, without making the creature irritable or uncomfortable, and how much to feed the two chickens, Coco and Peach. The sheep, Kiro, isn’t quite ready to be sheared yet, but the animal is surprisingly affectionate, and needs to be socialized for a certain amount of time each day to prevent it from becoming frustrated and destructive, which he thinks is funny behavior for a sheep.  _ Reminds me of myself. _ The first day Katara had shown him around the farm, her goat, Meng, had gotten a kick out of running away from Zuko every time he tried to get close, and headbutting him if he somehow managed to even get within her range. Katara had laughed at his expense more than he’d like to admit, but his embarrassment was lessened by the beauty of her laughter. 

He knows that she’s gorgeous— there’s simply no denying it. He’s been with people before; there were always those who found the strange glow of his eyes exotic, apparently enough to warrant sleeping with him, but he’d never actually  _ been  _ with anyone. Nobody wanted to come near him because of his eyes, even before the scar. And now that a quarter of his face is scarred to fuck, people want him even less. He tells himself he isn’t lonely, but he knows it’s a lie. The only people who ever really cared about him are his mother and his sister, and both of them are gone. Well, his sister is still in Ember, but he can’t go back there. He finds himself thinking about Azula more frequently now that he’s met Sokka, and his concern for her grows with each passing moment. Their father no doubt has taken out his disappointment with Zuko on her, and the guilt he feels because of it is immeasurable. He had always been her protector when they were young, and now he’s gone. He feels like he’s left her alone in the lion's den with a trail of his own blood around her, painting her as a target in his absence.  _ I hope she’s okay.  _

A week into his stay, storm clouds gather all throughout the day, turning the bright sky dark long before night falls. The rain comes down heavy after dinner, the innards of the barn already damp by the time he goes to sleep. Thunder rumbles in the dark sky, long and low, and lightning flashes brightly outside the barn, lighting up the night in sharp bursts. Water drips in through cracks and holes in the roof, the simple wooden walls not quite sheltering him from the icy wind. He’s found that his manipulation of fire allows him to keep himself warm to a degree, but with the wind and the perpetual dampness of the misting rain, he’s finding it hard not to shiver. He pulls one of Katara’s blankets tighter around him and curls up on his make-shift bed to try to warm himself up. The thunder and lightning continue as the early spring storm rages around him, the rain just this side of warm enough not to freeze into snow. Thunder cracks, loud and sharp in the sky, and the door to the barn bangs open. Zuko jumps to his feet immediately, only to see Katara standing in the doorway, her hand held above her head creating a shield from the rain.

“Holy shit, Katara!” His heart is slamming against his ribs as his body relaxes at the sight of his host. 

“Sorry!” She steps into the barn, closing the door behind her.

“What’s up?”

“I just...” she trails off, looking at the ground and moving around a piece of hay with the toe of her shoe. “You should come inside.”

“I…” His brain stutters to a stop inside his head.

“It’s cold and rainy and you’re getting all wet.” She gestures towards his admittedly damp clothes. “Just come inside and stay in the house tonight. I don't want you getting sick.”

“Okay.” 

He picks up the blankets, leaving Katara’s hands free so that she can hold them above her head to form the water into a dome-like shape to shield them from the rain while they run back to the house. When they get inside, Zuko heats himself up a little to dry off, and revels in the water rising from his clothes as steam.

“Hold one of the blankets up.”

Katara pulls the water from each of the blankets with swirling motions of her hands as Zuko holds them up, the thunder rumbling outside a growling backdrop as they work.

Once the blankets are dry, they fold each of them and drape them over the various pieces of furniture scattered throughout the cozy living space. Zuko looks around the small room, sizing up the worn loveseat and the padded armchair, deciding which one he’ll be most comfortable sleeping on.

“Do you want to use the bed?” His eyes are wide as he turns around to look at Katara, who immediately puts her hands up. “Not, like, with me! I’d sleep out here.” A warm blush spreads on her cheeks, soft and sweet.

“What? No, that’s your bed. I can sleep out here.”

“Zuko, your feet are going to hang off the edge of the couch by at least a foot.” He looks at the loveseat again, knowing that she’s right.

“It’s fine. I can always sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Zuko.” She puts one hand on her hip and stretches the other arm out towards the single bedroom. “Just sleep on the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch in your own home. Please,” he begs, and sees her face soften. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ve slept on nothing but a pile of dirt for weeks on end, having my feet hang off of the couch isn’t a big deal.” 

“Alright,” she acquiesces, shrugging her shoulders at his stubbornness. “Just don’t expect a sore back to get you out of working tomorrow.” Her smile is playful, and sends a jolt through his body all the way down to his toes.

“I won’t.” They stand awkwardly for a few minutes before Katara turns in.

“Goodnight Zuko.”

“Goodnight, Katara.” 

She closes the door behind her, and he lets out a slow breath. The couch is relatively comfortable, and Speckle finds his way up into the only empty space left and curls up against Zuko, proceeding purr in a soft, constant rumble. He feels strangely content, but although his body is tired, his mind doesn’t find rest for hours to come.

Xx

The rest of the week passes in a calm manner. Zuko moves back out into the barn after the rainstorm at his insistence, despite Katara’s assurance that he can sleep inside. He gets used to the routine of caring for the animals after his morning meditation and daily  _ kata _ , and he even begins to suspect that the animals are warming up to him. At the very least, Meng has stopped trying to headbutt him at every opportunity. On the ninth day he’s introduced to Katara’s father, Hakoda, a muscular man with a steely gaze and a friendly smile, and Zuko does his best to hide his tremors when they speak.

“Zuko, is it?” Hakoda shakes his hand. The older man’s weathered palm is broad, and his calloused fingers wide; working hands, his uncle would call them.

“Yes, sir.” He does his best to conceal his nervousness, reminding himself that Hakoda is  _ not  _ his father.

“Hm.” He rubs his beard, and Zuko can’t help but feel small under his gaze. “I hear you’ve been helping Katara out on the farm.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that you fixed the holes in the barn’s roof for her.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, thank you for that.” Hakoda smiles at him, and Zuko feels his chest loosen just a fraction. “I’m glad she has someone to help her out so she can relax for a while. She works very hard.”

“She does, sir.” Zuko has noticed that Katara works incessantly, always making time to cook and clean and say hello to her animals every morning. He admires her unwavering diligence, and wonders how tired she must be underneath it all. He can recognize when someone is burying their hurt— he’s far too familiar with it himself— and Katara shows all the signs.

Kanna comes to visit every day, the kind old woman never forgetting to make sure to come dote on her granddaughter. She’s always giving him strange looks, and something in her gaze makes Zuko feel like she knows more than she’s letting on. But there’s no way she could know about who he really is; this little village is so far removed from any of the activity in the city of Ember, and he feels confident that his secrets are safe.

He actually ends up becoming more friendly with Sokka, to his surprise. After that first day, Katara’s brother comes to the house to check up on her every day, although Zuko gets the feeling Sokka’s really just making sure that he doesn’t hurt his sister.

“Is that yours?” 

They're eating dinner one night when Sokka points out Zuko’s swords, sheathed in their scabbard and leaning against the door.

“Yeah.” Zuko dips his bread into the steaming stew and takes a bite.

“What kind of blade?”

“Its dual blades, actually.” He sees Sokka’s brows raise and goes to fetch his weapon. “It’s a dao sword—” he slides the swords from their sheath, currently disguised as a single blade— “two halves of one whole.” He grips the sword with both hands and pulls it apart into two separate weapons with a twist. He gets a small delight out of Sokka’s bright eyes and unabashed awe.

“Wow.” Sokka stands up and comes over to look at one of the blades. “These are beautiful. May I?” Zuko nods and hands it to Sokka, watching the other man test its weight and give it a few casual swings.

“I didn’t know you were trained in swordsmanship.”

Sokka shrugs and hands the blade back to Zuko. “I’m not formally trained. I have a longsword that I practice with, and I taught Katara how to use a short sword, but I'm not very good.”

“If you want, I can show you some things tomorrow. I was lucky enough to have a master teach me for years, so I can give you some pointers,” he offers, a tentative olive branch. Sokka’s face lights up at Zuko’s words, his own smile forming in turn.

“That would be awesome! I’ll bring my sword tomorrow and we can spar!”

“Don’t bother coming by until after lunch,” Katara cuts in, her smirk playful and bright. “Zuko has to finish his work on the farm before he can slack off.” Zuko lets a small smile slip onto his face.

“Yes, mom.” Sokka rolls his eyes, and Katara elbows him in the ribs, eliciting a high pitched yelp from her older brother.

True to his word, Sokka had come by the next day and showed Zuko what he knew. His form is good, but he definitely needs more practice, and the other man has been asking Zuko to spar every day since. Zuko is happy to give Sokka advice, and it feels incredible to actually be able to talk and laugh and practice with someone real. Zuko doesn’t do much socializing, but he likes Katara’s brother, and he likes to think that Sokka likes him too.

“Relax your wrist.” It’s a surprisingly nice day, the sun shining high in the sky and beating down on Zuko and Sokka as they spar. “If you hold the sword too tight, you won’t have a good range of movement.” Sokka charges at him, his movements powerful but unsure. Zuko disarms him quickly, and Sokka falls to the ground.

“Damn it!” Zuko reaches his hand out, and Sokka takes it to help get him back onto his feet.

“You’re a quick thinker, but you’ve got to be a little more flexible. Try to use your environment to your advantage.” They start again, and this time Sokka gets the best of him by dragging his foot on the ground and kicking dirt up at Zuko’s face.

“Does that count as using my environment?” Zuko can hear the smugness in Sokka’s voice, even if he can’t see it due to all the dirt in his eyes.

“I think it does, yeah.” When he looks back at Sokka, the other man is smiling, and they take up their positions to start again.

The days continue in a comfortable normalcy, the consistent routine doing wonders for Zuko’s mood. He hasn’t been this content for years, and the ease in which he’s slipped into his role here scares him. It’s just a matter of time before he has to move on and return to the dull emptiness of travelling alone, and the idea feels like a splinter stuck under his skin, a sharp pain making itself known with every movement. And the more he tries to ignore it, the more it hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Azula's relationship is very different in this story than it is in canon. none of that manipulative cruelty of hers has carried over into this universe. from now on i'll be updating twice a week; mondays and thursdays (at least until this fic is written in its entirety). thank you all for reading!!


	3. The Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just this one last chapter before things really start to pick up!

  
  


After just over two weeks of staying in Katara’s home, the fragile normalcy of his stay is broken. The day starts off the same as any other; he and Katara have breakfast, he goes out to tend to the animals and maintain the barn (after the storm he’d offered to fix up the holes in the roof, and that turned into him repairing every inch of the dilapidated structure). They’re having a peaceful lunch when things go sideways. Sokka barges in without knocking, as usual, and Kanna trails in after him, her signature sweet smile stretched across her face.

“Hello, kids!”

Zuko always gets a warm feeling in his chest when Kanna comes to visit. She’s the most maternal person he’s had in his life since his mother died, and the speed in which she accepted his presence will never fail to surprise him.

“Good afternoon, Kanna.” Zuko stands from his seat, and Kanna waves him back down as she always does.

“Hi Gran Gran.” Katara envelops Kanna in a warm hug, and Zuko feels an uncomfortable mix of jealousy and loss writhing in his gut.

“What, no ‘hi Sokka’?” Katara rolls her eyes at her brother, who is already sitting at the table and helping himself to some of the bread Katara had just put out.

“Sokka, you didn’t even give us a chance to say ‘hi’ before you sat down and started eating.” Katara’s hands are resting on her hips, her weight shifted onto one leg in what Zuko has begun to call her “no bullshit pose.”

“So ungrateful,” Sokka says around a mouthful of fresh bread, smearing more raspberry jam onto another slice in an impressive display of multi-tasking. Katara rolls her eyes again, a frequent occurrence when her brother is around, and sets out a plate for Kanna.

“Does anyone want any tea?” Katara asks, and the three others nod as she starts to siphon some water into her kettle to rinse it out.

“Better put a little extra water in there, dear.” Kanna says as her lightly shaking hands spread a generous amount of jam onto her bread.

“Oh? Are we expecting dad to come by?”

“Not necessarily.” Kanna winks at Zuko, offering no explanation.

Katara gives Zuko a questioning look, and they shrug their shoulders in tandem as Katara fills the kettle and sets it on the stove. He gets up to light the cookfire, and the kindling catches quickly, birthing fresh flames that leap about under the kettle. Zuko hasn’t even sat back down when they hear a firm knock at the door. Katara looks at her brother, both of their faces clouded with confusion, but Zuko looks at Kanna, whose face is much more relaxed.

“Dad never knocks.” Katara’s remark has them all on edge.

Sokka gets up and heads to the door, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Zuko lays his hand on Katara’s shoulder, and she takes a few steps backwards towards him. If they were anyone else, it would be an overreaction, but as Othered, it’s always possible that someone is coming to hurt them. That’s something Zuko has learned all too well in his years of travelling. Kanna, however, doesn’t look worried at all, and takes a delicate bite of bread.

“Who’re you?” Sokka’s voice is low and hard when he opens the door, and Zuko can hear himself speaking to his father in the same tone. He imagines Azula behind him as he stands between the two, ready to take the brunt of whatever fresh hell his father has deemed an appropriate punishment for whatever they’d done wrong. The voice that responds to Sokka is not his fathers, but it’s equally familiar all the same.

“I’ve been invited by a friend. Is your grandmother here?” Zuko’s heart slams into his ribs at a punishing speed, and he thinks he might fall over when he sees his uncle walk over the threshold.

“Uncle!” The word is a breath as it blows past his lips; he hasn’t seen his uncle in almost two years, and his arrival at Katara’s house is about the last thing Zuko expected to happen today.

“Nephew!” Iroh holds his arms out, and Zuko runs to him like he’s a child again, wrapping his uncle in a tight embrace and trying to blink back his tears.

“What are you doing here?”

Iroh holds him at arm’s length, his smile warm and friendly and the same as it always has been, save for the addition of a few new wrinkles.

“I invited him.” The four of them all turn to look at Kanna, who is standing at the table directing a friendly smile at Iroh.

“Kanna, it is good to see that you’re well,” Iroh says as he opens his arms to Kanna. 

Zuko, Sokka, and Katara stare open mouthed at Iroh and Kanna as they hug, the tea kettle whistling faintly in the background.

“Wait, what?” Sokka closes the door and looks to Zuko for answers, but all he can do is lift his hands and shrug his shoulders.

“I recognized Zuko as Iroh’s nephew when he first got here.” Kanna’s knowing glances and shrewd smiles are starting to make sense to him now. “Iroh and I have known each other for a long time, so I decided to write to him and let him know that his nephew was here.”

“Luckily I was in the area, so I was able to get here relatively quickly,” Iroh adds, but Zuko is still too shocked to return his uncle’s smile.

“How do you two know each other?” Katara sounds about as confused as he feels, her bewilderment almost an equal comfort to him as her close proximity.

“All old people know each other.” Kanna winks at him again.  _ Is this a fever dream? _

“Please, sit.” Iroh motions to the table, and the five of them sit down, the difference of age coupled with the two Othered seated next to each other making for a strange sight to behold.

“Uncle, what are you doing here?” Zuko asks. He’s starting to get a headache, and is glad when Katara manipulates some aromatic, steaming tea into the five mugs set on the table.

“I am here to speak to you, Zuko.” His uncle looks at Katara and Sokka. “And to you two as well.” A weighted silence descends upon the group. “Nephew, have you told your host about your quest?”

“I’ve only told Katara. Is that what this is about?”

“Yes,” his uncle replies as he takes a sip of his tea. “Your duty has become increasingly important over the last few years, but I believe that things have become more urgent as of late.” Zuko swallows past the lump in his throat, putting his tea down so that he can hide his shaking hands under the table.

“Woah, what’s all this about a quest?” Poor Sokka is totally out of the loop, and Zuko wonders if he’ll even believe that story his uncle is about to tell.

“Zuko has been tasked with finding The Source. It’s a blessed thing that gives all Othered their gifts, and is integral in maintaining balance in the world. The Source is being threatened by a cruel tyrant.” Zuko takes a deep breath as quietly as he can. “The King of Ember has plans to find The Source and destroy it, and use the ensuing chaos and discord to seize power over as much land as he can. Zuko must find The Source and protect it from harm.” Iroh levels a heavy gaze on Zuko. “But he can’t do it alone. He needs the help of three elemental Othered; one of each who can manipulate water, air, and earth.”

“Wait, I didn’t think I needed three other people.” He had known that finding  _ anyone _ who was willing to help him would make his quest easier, but it seems that his uncle has gathered more information in the time they’ve been apart.

“You will need even more than that, nephew. It is imperative that we protect The Source from the King of Ember, and you won’t be able to do it with just four people; I have no doubt that the King will have an entire army at his disposal. You’ll have to enlist the help of some skilled warriors if you want to win this fight. That is where you come into the picture.” Iroh looks at Sokka, whose eyes widen almost comically.

“Who, me?” Sokka’s voice is shrill as he points to himself. 

“Yes. You must go out into the world and find at least three warriors willing to fight by your side. I suggest you go to the island of Kyoshi first and talk to the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors. They are one of the most highly skilled groups in the world, and I have high hopes that you’ll be able to enlist their leader’s help.”

“Okay,” Sokka drags out the word, his disbelief clear in his voice. “And if I agreed to go on this quest, how would I find the other two warriors?”

“I have people along the way who will be able to point you in the right direction, just as I have for you.” Iroh nods towards him and Katara.

“Wait, we’re not going together?” Katara clutches her mug with a tight grip.

“No. Time is of the essence, and it will be much faster if you split up. You and Zuko will go to find the two Othered that you will need to help you, and Sokka will go find the warriors. Once you have gathered everyone you should meet up in the city of Ba Sing Se, I’d say in about six months, and continue on as a large group.” Silence grips the five of them in its clutches, the quiet stifling and hot.

“Do we have a choice in whether we want to go or not?” Sokka sounds like he already knows the answer even as he asks the question.

“Well, yes.” Iroh sighs and sips his tea before continuing. “But, the fate of the world rests on this mission, and my nephew needs all the help he can get. He will be embarking on his quest whether you go with him or not.” Zuko lowers his head to look down at his tea, not wanting to think about the task ahead of him if he has to go it alone.

“I’ll go.” He looks up sharply at Katara, who catches his eyes in her determined, glowing gaze.

“I guess that means I’ll go too.” Sokka, who tilts his chin down to Zuko in a nod. “If Katara’s going, then I'm going. Plus, you’re not that terrible, and I'd rather you didn’t die. Mostly because Katara would never stop bitching about it.” Sokka winks at him, and Zuko feels the blood rush to his cheeks.

“Sokka!” Katara’s cheeks are dusted with a pretty rose color, and he has to tear his eyes away before he starts thinking too much about it.

“Wonderful!” Iroh and Kanna turn to smile at each other. “You should all leave as soon as possible.”

“Do you know where we can find the two elemental Othered that we need?” Zuko’s travelled a fair bit in his years away from home, but he’s never stayed anywhere long enough to meet someone like him before coming to Katara’s village.

“I’d say your best bet would be to start heading east, and make your way to the city of Omashu. The king there is a personal friend of mine, I can let him know that you’re coming.”

“What, we’re supposed to just walk into a big city and ask to see the king?” Zuko scoffs. “They’ll probably kill us.”

“Zuko.” Iroh’s look is stern, and Zuko wilts under it. “I would never intentionally send you into danger. I will ensure that you two will be safe there.”

“I know, uncle. I’m sorry.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is all just… a lot to take in.”

“You’re telling me,” Sokka mumbles, slumped backwards in his seat with a glazed look in his eyes.

“It is an immense responsibility, but I have faith that you will succeed.” Iroh’s amber eyes hold more warmth than Zuko’s felt in years, and it invigorates him into feeling some semblance of confidence. “It’s also imperative that you practice manipulating your elements in a style that will benefit you in combat.”

“Combat?” Zuko isn’t sure what Katara had expected this quest to entail, but he’s sure that it will require some fighting. Based on her tone, this is something she hadn’t thought about. 

“Yes.” Iroh nods. “Your control over your element will be an undeniable advantage over any opponents you may face, and is a critical skill you must hone in order to protect The Source.”

“How are we supposed to go about teaching ourselves elemental combat?” Iroh had told Zuko that he should begin trying to learn to use his fire combatively before, but he hasn’t had much luck as of yet.

“I have a feeling that if you work together,” Iroh and Kanna share a sly look, “you’ll be able to figure it out.”

“That’s not very helpful, uncle.” His uncle has always been vague, but he can’t help but feel like a little more guidance would do them some good in this situation.

“Trust in the process, nephew.” He winks at Zuko, who brushes his hair back over his head in exasperation.

“When should we leave?” Katara asks. Zuko isn’t sure how she feels about it all; her voice is even, but her glowing eyes are guarded.

“As soon as you can. The three of us can go to the market today and get you all some supplies while you two stay here and pack up. You can head out tomorrow morning when the sun rises” 

“Alright.” Sokka sets his hands on the table and stands up. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Iroh, Kanna, and Sokka soon leave the small house, the chilled air seeping into the empty spaces they’ve left behind. Zuko and Katara clean up silently, the weight of the task ahead a thick fog around them.

“So...” he starts speaking without a goal in mind, not actually knowing where to begin a conversation. In a matter of minutes, everything has changed. The domestic bubble they had been taking shelter in has popped around them, leaving the both of them exposed to a harsh reality. Zuko had been able to push his mission to the back of his mind for the last two weeks, dutifully ignoring the fact that he would have to leave and never see Katara again in a matter of days, but it can’t be avoided any longer. 

“So...” Katara sounds mystified and a little lost, no doubt shell shocked by the tale his uncle had just spun. Her life has probably only consisted of this home and her small village up until this point, and now she’s being shoved into the wider world like a fledgling from her nest. “Do you think you can coach me in some swordsmanship? I’ve only ever practiced with Sokka, and he’s never been very good until you started teaching him.” It’s not what he was expecting her to say, but he’ll take it.

“Of course,” he agrees, and sits back down as Katara puts on another pot of tea.

“I figure it’ll probably be pretty dangerous out there.” Her voice is quiet, a crease making its home between her brows. He fights the urge to rub it away with his thumb, to smooth out the lines on her forehead with a sweep of his hand. “And I should be able to protect myself until we figure out how to use our gifts in combat.” He hums in agreement, and Katara nods at him before disappearing into her room and closing the door gently behind her, the boiling water on the stove abandoned and forgotten.

Zuko’s uncle, Kanna, and Sokka come back a while later, and the sound of the door coaxes Katara out of her room. She had been in there for the entire time they were gone, and Zuko’s anxiety had swelled with each passing moment. He had finally gotten comfortable with Katara, their tentative friendship easy, if not a little awkward, and her drawing away so quickly had dredged up an embarrassing amount of self-doubt.

“Alright.” Sokka lays out some supplies on the small table. “We didn’t get much. Iroh told me you’ve been travelling alone for a while, so I assume you know how to hunt and trap at least a little bit.” Zuko nods at Sokka, who seems to relax minutely. 

“I was able to find you a bow and some arrows to replace yours, nephew.” Zuko smiles at the sturdy looking bow and quiver full of arrows that his uncle hands to him. He had lost his bow in a fight more than a year ago, and hadn’t been able to make the money to replace it.

“We met up with Dad; he’s going to be coming by soon to drop off some of his hunting supplies that he doesn’t need for you guys. I have my own, so I don’t need any more. Your uncle said you had portable cookware already.”

“Yeah, but I only have one set of—” Sokka interrupts him by pointing to a set of camping utensils at the far end of the table.

“Those are for you.”

“I figured you hadn’t kept my set after we split up all those years ago,” Iroh says with a kind smile. It does nothing to quell Zuko’s nerves. He’s been travelling alone for the better part of two years, and the thought of travelling not only with someone he just met, but someone who is kind and friendly and smart and beautiful is making his stomach turn.

“What did you pack, Katara?” Sokka looks up at his sister, whose face is passive.

“Clothes, soap, money, some blankets. That’s it so far.” She shrugs. Speckle rubs up against her leg, and she scoops the cat up into her arms.

“Alright. What nonperishable food do you have?” 

The five of them sort through supplies and deem what is most pertinent to take. It’s easier for Zuko and Katara, who will at least have two packs to split everything between, but a syrupy tension fills the empty spaces around them as they organize. Once they've successfully packed up as much food as they can along with the cookware, Katara consolidates her clothes and blankets, and they assemble their packs, tying the bedrolls the others had picked up in the market to the tops of their overstuffed bags.

“Well, everything seems to be in order.” Iroh brushes his hands together and rests them on his large belly. The sun had set hours ago, the night air quiet outside of Katara’s home as the five adults look over everything they’ve packed. “I will leave you be until tomorrow morning. Try to get some rest.” He puts his hand on Zuko’s shoulder, the weight comforting and warm, before heading out into the night.

Sokka and Kanna follow Iroh out, and soon it’s just Zuko and Katara once again. The nonchalance of the previous days has been replaced with a squirming nervousness, the strength of it palpable in the silent house. Katara’s father comes by briefly, and Zuko leaves the two of them inside to say their goodbyes in private. It’s strangely warm for this time of year, but he’s glad for it when it turns out that Katara and Hakoda take a long while to say goodbye. Thoughts of his own father bubble in his mind like acid, the crisp air unable to dispel them.  _ I wonder what it’s like to have a father that actually cares about you. _ Katara waves Zuko back in after a little while, her eyes rimmed with pink and cheeks splotched with the color to match. They take their places at the table as the humble house settles around them with gentle creaks.

“Do you want some chamomile tea?” He nods appreciatively at Katara, and they team up to start the water boiling. “Hopefully it’ll help me sleep.”

“Are you nervous?” It’s a stupid question, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Yes.” She rests her elbows on the table and drops her chin into her hand. “But I’m also a little excited.” She smiles at him, small and timid, and his anxiety lessens. “I’ve been stuck in this house and this village my whole life. I think I’m ready for an adventure.”

“Well, it’ll definitely be an adventure, that’s for sure.” Speckle jumps up onto the table between them, both of them moving to pet him at the same time.

“How long do you think we’ll be gone for?” Katara pulls the tea from the softly whistling kettle and carefully maneuvers it around Speckle and into their mugs.

“It’s hard to say.” Zuko blows on his tea, watching the steam disappear and reappear around his breath. “Hopefully less than a year.”

“How long have you been searching for The Source on your own?” Her voice is quiet, drifting over her mug as she takes a sip.

“Well...” He sets his own mug on the table and rubs the back of his neck. “I left home three years ago and travelled with my uncle for a little over a year searching for it. But after I split up with my uncle I sort of… lost interest? No, I guess I lost the motivation.” He won’t regale to her how desperate and hopeless he felt after he had driven his uncle away, how many nights he had laid wide awake, staring at the stars, wishing that the darkness of the night would swallow him whole. “I told myself I was searching, and I guess I technically was, but I was mostly just wandering around.” 

“Hm.” They drink their tea in a renewed silence, this one significantly less awkward than before. 

“You should sleep inside tonight,” Katara says after a while. Zuko pulls his focus away from the purring cat to look at her. “If we’re going to be on the road for a while, you should sleep on something that isn’t the ground while you can.”

He chuckles at that. “You’re probably right. I appreciate it, Katara.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” The concern is evident in her voice, and he relishes in it’s warmth.

“I’m sure. It’s your bed, you should sleep in it.” The thought of sleeping in her bed is fleeting, but he still has to hide his blush behind his mug.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugs and reaches forward to rub Speckle’s belly where he is flopped in the center of the table. “I’m gonna miss you, little guy.”

“Will Kanna look after him for you?” Zuko is a little embarrassed to admit how attached he’s gotten to the cat in his short time here.

“Yeah.” She’s smiling, but there’s a soft sadness in her eyes. “He’s been here with me for seven years.” She doesn’t have to say anything else for him to understand. He’s never had a pet, as much as he’s always wanted one, but he knows enough to know that the bond between a person and their animal companion is a strong one.

Again they lapse into silence, the weight of their impending journey heavy on their shoulders. Eventually Katara heads off to her room to sleep, and Zuko retreats to the small couch. He tries to fall asleep, but his mind is racing, anticipation and nerves fueling his rapid thoughts. He lies awake for hours, even trying to meditate at one point, but he can’t clear his mind for the life of him. He’s got his head lolling off the side of the loveseat and his arms stretched out above him when Katara’s door opens, and he scrambles into a more normal looking position.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks, voice raspy from hours of silence.

She pads over to the loveseat and sits down next to him, tucking her feet up under her and shaking her head. “No. I figured you’d probably be awake and that maybe we could—” she brandishes her arms around in a vague gesture. “I don’t know. Talk about something?”

“Sure.” He pulls his legs up into a lotus position and turns his body towards hers. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know...” She’s playing with the end of her braid, brushing the hair that sticks out of the tie against the palm of her hand. “Do you have any siblings?”  _ Of course she wants to talk about family. _

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath. “I have a younger sister. She’s your age.”

“Oh, that’s funny.” The corner of her mouth turns up in a smile. “What’s her name?”

“Azula.” He tries to stifle the melancholy in his voice; he doesn’t want Katara to pick up on it and ask him what’s wrong. He doesn’t want to tell her about his fucked up family unless he absolutely has to.

“Azula... that’s a pretty name. What’s she like?”

“She’s confident, and headstrong. She’s also snarky and annoying, but she’s very intelligent.” A smile creeps on to his face as he thinks about his sister. “She’s better than me at almost everything, and she’s my best friend.” His smile turns sour, a sadness seeping into it that always accompanies thoughts of his little sister. “At least, she was. I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Do you miss her?” His eyes lock on Katara’s, the ethereal glow stark against the dark backdrop of the small house.

“Every day.” He can feel the tears pricking at the back of his eyes, threatening to claw their way out from the corners.

“I’m sorry, Zuko.” She takes one if his hands in hers, and he suddenly realizes how close they are. Her hand is cool, smooth like her element, and she grounds him in the present with a gentle squeeze.

“It is what it is.” His hand tingles where she holds it, the funny sensation trailing all the way up his arm. He tries not to mourn the loss when she pulls her hand away, tries not to wish that she’d let him hold onto her for just a bit longer.

They’re quiet for a long time. Eventually Zuko rests his head against the side of the couch, feeling his eyes droop with the desire for sleep. Katara’s eyes are closed, her head resting against the couch just like his, and he knows that he won’t mind the crick in his neck in the morning. It’s well worth it to fall asleep next to her, to have the last image in his mind before he drifts away be the smooth planes of her cheeks and the outline of her full lashes brushing against her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading, let me know what you think!


	4. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the adventure (finally) begins!

The next morning, Katara wakes up on the couch, her head tilted awkwardly against the backrest, her neck already sore from the strange angle. She groans as she rolls her head, trying to message out the pain as she struggles to remember why she’s on the couch in the first place.  _ Oh, right. _ She had come out here last night after tossing and turning in bed for what felt like hours, hoping to talk to Zuko until she felt sleepy. Apparently it had worked, and she’d fallen asleep right here on the couch. And less than two feet away from her on the other side of the loveseat is Zuko, his head also tilted at an uncomfortable angle, his eyes closed and breaths even with sleep. It must be really early; she knows Zuko wakes up with the sun, but here he is, sleeping peacefully within arms reach. 

She studies his face, his full, dark lashes contrasting with his pale skin as they flutter against his cheek. His hair is spilled across his forehead, the strands shiny with a distinct silky look to them. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen his face relaxed like this, and it makes him look younger, the ghosts of his past shut away behind his eyelids as he dreams. The long line of his neck is exaggerated by the tilt of his head, and his skin looks smooth and soft; she gets the wild urge to touch him, to trail her fingers down his neck to see just how soft it really is, and a deep blush floods her cheeks.  _ Don’t be a creep, Katara.  _ His lips are a pretty dusty rose color, and are parted slightly in his sleep. They’re a little chapped, the bottom one is just a bit fuller than the top, and that stupid wild urge comes back with fervor. _ I wonder what it would feel like to- _

He inhales deeply and peels his eyes open, the warm golden glow landing on her and sending a shiver up her spine, the haze of sleep softening his gaze into something soft and comforting. Her blush somehow deepens, Zuko’s cheeks gaining a faint tinge of pink as well as they look at each other.

“Good morning,” she does her best to calm her hyperactive heart when she speaks.

“Good morning,” his voice is low and raspier than usual, and it throws her pulse right back into overdrive. “Did you fall asleep out here?”

“Yeah.” She’s resigned to the fact that her blush isn’t going away any time soon, especially if he keeps looking at her with those soft eyes.

“I told you it’s not that uncomfortable.” He smiles, small and sleepy, and her heart stutters beneath her ribs.

“I guess you were right.” He lifts his head from it’s unpleasant angle and winces. “Although my neck doesn’t necessarily agree with you on that.” They both laugh quietly, the early morning light slipping through her window as the sun just begins to rise.

“I’m going to meditate and go through my  _ kata _ , and then I’ll take care of the animals.”

“No, I'll handle it this morning. We have to leave soon, so you can just focus on your own stuff and I’ll take care of the animals and get breakfast started.”

“Are you sure?” She smiles at his question. He’s always so eager to help, something she still isn’t quite used to.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Neither of them move for a moment, but eventually she gets up, loath to break the quiet comfort she had found in his presence.

It’s particularly warm for early spring, but the fresh air does well to clear her mind, their impending adventure and intimate awakening lingering behind her eyes, persistent and hot. She takes care of the animals quickly, doing her damndest not to stare at Zuko as he goes through his  _ kata  _ with his shirt off. She’s seen a man’s chest before, Sokka and her father notwithstanding. There had been a scant few people in recent years that had wanted to be close to her, and either out of loneliness or desperation, she had let them in. None had stayed, and she found that she hadn’t even wanted them to. But she  _ knows  _ Zuko; he’s the only person outside of her family that she’s  _ ever  _ known, and his shirtlessness is affecting her more than she’d like to admit.

Breakfast is just about ready when he comes in, and they take their meal in relative silence. The air is saturated with anticipation and nerves, thick with it like a hearty stew. After the meal they sit and drink their tea, at a loss for words before their big adventure, the uncertainty of the near future bittering every sip. The cat jumps on the table per usual, and Katara strokes his soft fur, dreading the moment she has to leave him behind. The hour of their departure approaches faster and faster until suddenly it’s upon them, and Sokka, Gran Gran, and Iroh are blowing into the kitchen like a steady breeze. She had said goodbye to her father the day before, knowing that he wouldn’t be around this morning to see her off, but his absence is a gaping wound, stinging in the morning air.

“All ready? Did you get enough sleep?” It’s probably obvious that she didn’t actually get enough sleep, but there are dark circles under Sokka’s eyes as well, and she has to applaud him for mustering up as much pep as he has.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” her voice and her smile are tired, and she pulls her brother in for a hug, the last one they’ll share for a few months at the very least.

“Alright,” Iroh lays a small, worn out map on the table. “Sokka, you are to head north and west to the shore, and from there travel to Kyoshi Island. I have a contact here,” he points to a small town on the shoreline, “that can get you passage to the island. I will let them know that you are coming. As for you two,” he looks at Katara and Zuko, “you will be heading east to the city of Omashu,” he points to a different part of the map, the marker for the city situated on the other side of a mountain range. “I have already sent word to the king that he should be expecting you some time in the near future. If you set a good pace,” Iroh rolls up the map and hands it to Sokka. “You should be able to get to Omashu within two months.” A pervasive stillness settles in the room before Katara takes a deep breath.

“Well, we better head out. No time like the present, right?” Iroh and Gran Gran smile at her false enthusiasm, while Zuko and Sokka simply look at each other and nod.

They say their goodbyes, Katara blinking back tears as she hugs Gran Gran, the older woman rubbing her back soothingly. She kisses Speckle so many times that he gets annoyed with her and jumps out of her arms onto the table, making for a good laugh, even if it’s watery. She hugs Sokka again, pressing her face into his broad shoulder.

“Be safe out there, okay?” She nods as they pull apart from each other, and has to dash an errant tear from the corner of her eye.

“Take care of her,” Sokka and Zuko shake hands, the latter nodding his head at Sokka’s request.

“Of course.”

“And if he lays a finger on you-” Sokka points his finger in Katara’s face, and she whacks his arm to get him to lower it.

“Sokka!” She flushes red, as does Zuko, at Sokka’s comment, their close awakening this morning still fresh in Katara’s mind adding to her blush.

“I’m just saying,” he raises his hands in a surrender, and she smacks him in the chest with the back of her hand, smirking at him as they walk towards the door.

They step outside into the crisp morning air, a light breeze ruffling her hair as she looks out at her village, the sun bathing it in a blondish light. She’s not sure if she’ll miss it; the village itself has never done much for her, but she knows that she’ll miss her home and her family. She steels her nerves as she and Zuko head out, walking out of the village in the opposite direction of Sokka, following a worn down dirt road leading eastward. Her home grows smaller and smaller behind them, soon fading away to nothing but a pinprick in the distance. The dirt road winds along through hills and valleys, their feet pounding rhythmically through the open land. They see no other travellers; Katara’s village is somewhat remote, and there’s really no reason for anyone to visit, so she isn’t very surprised at the lack of company. 

“How long have you been travelling for?” She wishes desperately to break the silence; hours of saying nothing and hearing only the birds flying above them is threatening to drive her insane.

“About three years,” Zuko keeps his eyes on the road ahead, even though there’s hardly anything to see.

“Why did you leave home?” Darkness falls upon his face, a mix of melancholy and resentment clear in the downturn of his mouth and creases on his forehead.  
“It’s a long story,” he doesn’t elaborate, and she feels like it’s an issue that she shouldn’t push. The silence stretches on, following the curvature of the dusty road as far as the eye can see.

Xx

They make their camp in a small clearing that first night, the sun kissing the horizon line as they set up their tent. There’s only one; they had to be sure to travel light, and the small tent was all they could afford to carry. And it is small, so much so that the two of them will most likely be shoulder to shoulder when they lay down to sleep. Katara tries not to think too much into it, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering rambunctiously without a care for her desire for them to settle.

“The fire can’t be too big,” Zuko looks around the clearing, his bright eyes settling on a patch of trees not too far away. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

“But there’s nobody out here,” they hadn’t seen a single other soul the entire day.

“We can’t know that for sure,” he digs through his pack and pulls out a small hatchet. “I’m going to get some firewood,” he points over to the patch of trees. “Can you finish unpacking?” She nods silently as he walks off, the sound of him hacking branches off of the trees in the distance a broken melody. He returns with arms full of branches, orange and pink splotches hovering in the sky around the sun, a gradient to a deep blue stretching across to the west.

“We can wait until dark to make the fire,” he arranges the wood anyway, making a sort of cross-hatch pattern not too far from the tent.

Katara pulls her hair out of it’s practical braid, untwisting the strands and combing through it with her fingers. Zuko sits down next to her with a grunt and leans back on his hands, his feet no doubt sore just like hers. 

“Sokka said he taught you how to use a short sword?”

“Yeah, but that was a while ago. He wasn’t very good when he taught me, but I know the basics.”

“Do you want to spar?” She looks over at him, their glowing eyes making contact, the brightness more pronounced in the slowly darkening night. “I could give you some pointers if you want.”

“Sure,” they stand and move away from the fire, and Katara takes the sword out of its sheath at her hip.

“Okay, first things first. Your grip isn’t right,” he comes up close beside her. “You want your wrist to be relaxed and neutral. Imagine the way you’d position it if you were shaking someone’s hand; the wrist is in line with the forearm,” he draws an invisible line in the air from her thumb to her wrist, and she adjusts her grip, feeling the difference in the pull of her muscles. “Good. You want to carry the majority of the sword's weight in your shoulder, not your wrist, so that you won’t tire out as fast. Now, the majority of your grip will come from the thumb and first two fingers, while the last two stay a little loser,” he taps on her thumb with his finger, and she adjusts it accordingly. “When you swing,” he takes her elbow in his hand gently, “don’t swing from your wrist. You want to keep the movement localized to your elbow,” he guides her arm in a swinging motion, “or your shoulder for a bigger swing.” Her skin tingles where he touches it, and she does her best to try and keep her concentration on the sword. “You can use your wrist to swivel the sword and change it’s direction, so remember to keep it loose, but don’t put a lot of pressure on it. Think you’re ready to practice a little?”

“I think so, yeah,” she does a good job of hiding the temor in her voice, glad that the sky is now mostly a soft azure to help hide her blush. He pulls his dual sword out from its scabbard on his back, splits it apart, and slides one half back into its place.

“We can go slow at first so that you get the hang of it. Focus on attacking me first, and we’ll move onto defense later.” She nods and steps towards him, taking his instructions in stride as she moves, but her steps are awkward and the sword is heavy in the unfamiliar grip, and he disarms her quickly.

“Fuck,” she picks up her sword, dusting off he dirt it had picked up from the ground.

“That was actually pretty good. You need to adjust your stance,” he comes back over to her and takes his stance. “Put your leading foot- for you it’ll be your right foot- forward, and try to keep it like that as much as you can,” she pushes her right foot forward, shifting her weight and bending her knees just a bit to even out, doing her best to mirror his posture. Zuko takes his position across from her again, and nods for her to begin. She moves sort of in a shuffling motion, and it takes a bit longer this time for Zuko to disarm her. The sword isn’t too big, but the muscles in her forearms aren’t very strong.

“Better,” he flicks his wrist out towards the tent, a spark flying towards the logs and catching them to light the campfire. “Try again.”

They spar until the sky is dark, the stars winking above them as Katara continues to try to disarm him. She fails every time, and her forearm is sorer than she ever thought it could be. Zuko has removed his overshirt, the one underneath baring most of his arms, and she tries not to get distracted by the thick muscle there that no doubt has come from years of practicing his craft. By the time they’re done, Katara is sore and slightly sweaty, the brisk air cool against the exposed skin of her arms.

“You’re getting better,” he slides his sword back into its home on his back, and Katara sheaths her own before they sit down at the fire. “It’ll take some time to build up the right muscles, but you’re getting the hang of it. In a couple days we can work on defense; your arms need time to heal so that you don’t get hurt.”

“You’re a good teacher,” his smile is small and lopsided, and she catches the beginnings of a blush rising to his cheeks.

“I had a good teacher. I’m just regurgitating what he told me,” he shrugs. 

They make their meager dinner and eat under the stars. Katara is exhausted, and by the time she climbs into her bedroll, she’s tired enough that she drifts off to sleep almost immediately.

Xx

The next day they talk a bit more while they travel, mostly about her family, but sometimes about the strange things Zuko has seen in his travels. He tells her a story about an especially angry cabbage merchant who chased him out of town simply because he was Othered, and she laughs so hard that her stomach hurts, Zuko laughing right along with her. He has a nice laugh, one that she wouldn’t mind hearing more often. His smile is bright, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes endearing, and she vows to make him laugh more often. He strikes her as the kind of person who hasn’t had a good laugh in a long while, and she does her best to change that. She isn’t particularly funny, but he chuckles at her awful jokes as they move along the worn down road. 

That night once they set up camp, they decide that it would be a good idea to practice wielding their elements in the context of combat.

“Any ideas?” They stand across from each other, not unlike when they had been sparring last night. 

“Nope,” Zuko looks just as lost as she does.

“Maybe we should just practice handling our elements for extended periods of time. I’ve never really had a need to hold my water for very long, so I think it makes sense to start there.” Zuko nods at her, and she siphons some water from the waterskin she keeps at her hip. Zuko cups his hands in front of him and a small plume of flame bursts to life, highlighting his face in a strange manner.

“Now what?” Katara has her water in a wobbling ball in between her hands in front of her, and is using a surprising amount of concentration to keep it there.

“Maybe we can just talk and see how long we can keep it up?” She glances up at him and he nods, his eyes falling back to his element quickly just like hers. “So… what’s your family like?” Zuko’s flame flares brightly in his hands, hot tendrils of fire shooting high up into the air.

“Fuck!” He quickly moves his hands farther away from his body, and the flames sputter out as he stumbles a few steps backwards.

“Oh my god!” The water falls from her hands as she runs up to Zuko. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” his eyes are wide and his breathing is a little fast due to the scare. “Maybe don’t ask about my family.”

“Sure, yeah,” she wonders what it is about his family that had made him react so strongly, and when she reaches out to touch his arm he flinches back violently. “Zuko?” 

“I said I'm fine!” he snaps at her, the biting tone of his voice unfamiliar and abrasive. His breathing is still heavy, the hand he uses to push back his hair trembling slightly.

“Okay,” she makes her words soft, and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s alright,” his eyes are downcast, a weariness morphing his face. “I’m sorry I snapped at you like that.”

“I forgive you,” he looks at her, his warm golden eyes holding back some strong emotion, something sad and scared, and she thinks she might not want to know about his family and what they’ve done to make him like this. “Let’s call it a night and try again tomorrow.” He nods, and they head back to the campfire. That night, they lay facing away from each other in their bedrolls, and Katara struggles to find sleep for what feels like a very long time. She waits for Zuko’s breathing to slow, but it never does.

Xx

“Okay, let’s start off easy this time,” a few days later they go back to their elements, the two of them standing a few feet apart and holding their fire and water in front of them. “You go first.”

“Okay. Uhh,” Zuko gets a thoughtful look on his face, and his fire flickers in his palms. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Really?” She’s mocking him, but when she looks up her sphere of water starts to wobble, and Zuko’s single eyebrow raises. “Okay, it’s blue. If you could have any animal as a pet, what would it be?”

“Any animal?” She nods at him, his fire blinking as he thinks. “I don’t know, I really liked your cat.” She laughs, having to stop herself short when her water sphere starts to leak. “A dragon.”

“Dragons aren’t real.” Her orb stays steady between her hands, even when she sees Zuko’s bright smile.

“You never said it had to be a real animal,” he steadies his fire. “Hm… do you ever wish you were normal?” His voice is soft, so quiet that she almost doesn’t hear his question.

“I thought we were starting off easy,” it’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s more than a hint of sadness in her voice. “I’m not sure,” she concentrates on controlling her water. “I can’t imagine my life any different than what it is now. I know when I was younger I wished that I wasn’t Othered, but it doesn’t bother me so much now, I guess.” It’s not entirely a lie, but she doesn’t know how to explain how she feels about being Othered in words. “What about you?”

“Yes,” he answers quickly, his voice sure even as his fire dwindles before he coaxes it back to life. “But not as much anymore, I guess.” There’s a far away look in his eyes, the stunning gold peering off somewhere above her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have ever left my home if I was normal,” he shrugs. “I think my life would have been pretty boring. Plus, I never would have met you.” She meets his eyes, and a weighty silence sends her heart into a frenzy, conjuring a stirring in her gut and laying heavy on their shoulders.

“I’m glad to know that you think I’m so great,” his cheeks flush red, and for whatever reason the sight has her stomach exploding into butterflies. “For the record, I think you’re pretty great, too.” Now it’s her turn to blush, Zuko’s mouth tipping into a small smile, his fire growing ever so slightly in his hands.

“You hardly even know me,” he looks at her again, and something in his eyes makes her almost lose control over her water.

“I think I’m a pretty good judge of character,” he chuckles at her self satisfied smile, shaking his head back and forth slightly.

“Next question,” his voice is light, and she tries to think of a question that won’t sour his mood.

“Let’s see,” she starts to expand and contract her water in her hands as she thinks. “When did you start learning how to swordfight?”

“When I was ten,” he follows her lead and splits his fire in two, one small plume in each hand. “A master lived in my town and taught me for seven years.”

“Wow,” she twirls her water around in a ribbon in front of her. “No wonder you’re so good. I hope I don't take seven years to get the hang of it.”

“You won’t. You have a good work ethic and a strong desire to learn,” he’s focusing on his fire, elongating the plumes until they’re stretched above his head. “I didn’t have either of those when I was younger. I’m surprised my master stuck with me that long.”

“Well, he must have seen something in you that was worth it,” Zuko’s face takes on a subtle softness. 

“I guess so.” 

Xx

“Fuck!” Her water falls to the ground once again, splashing onto the dry dirt before sinking in. “Why is this so hard?” She’s been trying to manipulate her water in a circle around her head while her and Zuko have a conversation, but the concentration it requires is currently beyond her reach. She’s tried and failed five times since they’ve set up camp, and she’s getting sick and tired of it.

“Maybe you should try meditating,” Zuko is having just a little more luck than she is, his ribbon of fire flickering in and out as he moves it around him, his face scrunched up in concentration.

“ _ Maybe you should try meditating _ ,” her frustration leaks into her mocking tone, and Zuko turns to her with a cranky look drawn on his face.

“Hey, don’t get mad at me, I’m just trying to help.”

“Well look at you, mister perfect! You’re just good at everything, huh?” She likes Zuko, she really does, but travelling for a week with absolutely no alone time and watching him best her at their sword fights and pull ahead of her with handling his element every night is grating on her nerves.

“Are you serious?” His fire sputters out, something Katara gets a strange satisfaction from. “Why are you taking this out on me? It’s not my fault you’re having trouble!”

“Well, not all of us are so  _ naturally gifted! _ ” Katara knows that her anger is being misplaced, but it feels good to finally let it out, and Zuko is the only one around to hear it.

“Naturally gifted? Are you shitting me right now?” She’s goaded him into being just as angry as she is, and even with the rational part of her mind screaming at her to relax, her pent up frustration is blowing up. “I’m not naturally gifted at anything! Why are you so angry at me?”

“I’m not angry at you!” She feels tears pricking at the back of her eyes. “I’m just angry! I’m frustrated and I'm tired and I miss my family and I just want to take a real bath and eat a real meal and sleep in a real bed!” Zuko’s face shifts into one of sympathy. “All of this is just so exhausting,” her anger melts away, guilt at having taken it out on Zuko settling in her gut as she wipes the tears off of her face.

“I’m sorry Katara,” Zuko has walked up next to her, and without conscious thought she throws herself into his arms, her tears flowing anew as they wrap their arms around each other. She’s never been under so much pressure, has never been away from her family this long, and has never felt like such a failure.

“I just can’t get it right,” she presses her face into his sturdy shoulder. “The water, the sword fighting, anything.”

“Katara, you gotta cut yourself some slack,” she feels Zuko’s low voice vibrating in his chest. “All of this is brand new to you. And you’re making progress every day.” She tries to calm her breathing, inhaling the scent of wood smoke and the faint smell of cinnamon soap that clings to Zuko’s skin and clothes. “You can’t expect the world of yourself. It’s only been a week since we left. You have to give yourself time.” His comforting words mixed with the solidity and warmth of his body ease her into a gentle calm, and she reluctantly pulls away when her tears are dry.

“I’m sorry I lashed out at you,” She’s embarrassed at her outburst, feeling like a teenager again, her emotions volatile and overpowering.

“It’s alright, I forgive you,” from the tone of his voice, she knows he understands. There’s a lot about Zuko that she doesn’t know, but there’s a few things that she knows for certain, the most obvious one being that he understands a lot more about pain than he lets on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading ☺ next update on thursday!


	5. The Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we got some good good quality zutara moments in this one, friends!

Travelling with Katara is much different than he thought it would be. He had imagined that she’d be the same as she was at home; relaxed, in control, and level-headed. But he’s finding that she’s so much more than that. She’s sarcastic and curious, always asking him about his previous travels and inquiring about the flora and fauna they come across. She’s determined and persistent, asking Zuko to either spar or practice with their elements every single night. She’s full of wonder and awe, her face nearly as bright as her eyes when she stares up into the night sky, the bursts of stars enchanting her with their swirls and constellations. Sometimes she’s restless and frustrated, but most of the time she’s downright chipper. He knows that there’s something lurking underneath all her smiles and laughs, and he gets a taste of it when she lets her anger get the best of her. It’s only happened on a few occasions, but there’s definitely a darkness within her, and it’s something he feels like she’s been stifling for a long time. 

She’s very open about a lot of things in her life, but she’s always skirting around the edge of something, never quite touching the things that really hurt. He, of course, has no ground to stand on when it comes to talking about things that upset him. After his outburst with his fire when Katara had brought up his family, she’s stopped asking about his personal life, carefully avoiding any conversation that could lead down that road. He hates feeling fragile, like if she brings up certain topics he’s bound to shatter into a thousand pieces, but that’s just it; he  _ is _ fragile. He loathes how broken he feels and how sensitive he gets, the feelings coded as weaknesses for nearly his entire life. Katara wears her heart on her sleeve, and he is ridiculously envious of her for her ability to be so vulnerable. He had always equated strength to stoicism, but Katara has turned that belief on its head, proving to him that you can be soft and strong at the same time, and he has no idea how to feel about it.

They’ve been practicing their swordfighting and wielding their elements every night, and he sees immense improvement in Katara’s skill for both. She still hasn’t disarmed him during their sparring, but he doesn’t expect her too, and she still struggles with the finer movements of her water, but he does the same with his fire. After a long day of travelling, they settle down in an open space between the trees; the dirt road has led them into a thick, coniferous forest, one teeming with life in all its forms.

Once they lay down to sleep (he still isn’t used to how close she is, his desires split between putting as much space between them as possible and pulling her as close as he can), he finds himself waking up what feels like moments later. The sky is still dark, the sounds of the forest permeating the space around him, but when he turns, he realizes that Katara isn’t next to him. He bolts upright, fearing the worst as he shoves his arms through the holes in his overshirt. He pulls the tent flap open intending to run out into the night, but it stopped short by the sight before him.

Katara stands tall, bathed in the cool light of the moon, a thick ribbon of water flowing around her as she moves. Hundreds of stars dot the sky, but she is the only heavenly body he sees, her eyes closed and arms circling through the air as she sways on her feet. A somber tune that matches the fluid movements of her arms escapes her in a quiet hum, the water sparkling as it trails around her in curves and waves. The ribbon of water splits in two with a flick of her wrist, and then again into four thin strands that follow the sway of her hips and the reach of her arms, and he sits frozen in place, mesmerized by her movements. A furious blush floods his cheeks; he shouldn’t be staring at her, this clearly isn’t something meant for him to see, but she’s so beautiful in the moonlight, her lithe figure almost ethereal going through it’s smooth forms. He comes to his senses and ducks back into the tent silently, giving Katara the privacy she deserves as he tries to still his wild heart. The image of her mystical dance is burned into the back of his eyelids, his throat like sandpaper as he tries to swallow past the feeling of the universe trapped between his ribs that her visage conjures in him. He’s been trying to ignore the fluttering in his gut when she looks at him, been trying to still his hands when he reaches to correct her form when they spar, but after tonight he knows his efforts will be futile. He’s never seen anyone, anything at all more beautiful than what he just saw, and he forces himself to come to terms with the fact that he’s absolutely screwed. 

“Katara?” He calls out to her before he leaves the tent, a fair warning of his impending presence, not wanting to embarrass her by intruding on a private moment.

“I’m out here!” He climbs out of the tent, secretly lamenting the absence of her strange dance.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just couldn’t sleep,” she shrugs her shoulders.

“What were you doing?” 

“I was just practicing with my water,” she pulls a stream of sparkling liquid to her and twirls it around her body with a swirl of her wrist.

“Oh. What were you practicing?” She blushes a deep scarlet, the light of the moon showcasing her embarrassment.

“It was nothing, really,” she guides the water back into the skin at her waist.

“Maybe if you show me I can practice with you.”  _ What am I even doing? _

“I don’t know, it’s kind of lame,” she hugs her arms to her chest defensively.

“Does it help you?”

“Yeah, I think so,” her bright eyes lock on his, the glow almost sparkling in the moonlight.

“Then it’s not lame,” he shrugs. “You can show me, if you want. Maybe it’ll help me too.” He can see her thinking about it, her brow furrowing in contemplation, and she comes to a decision as she pulls a stream of water out from her hip.

“Well, it was sort of like dancing, I guess,” she moves the water in a high arc above her head. “I’ve noticed that it’s easier to control when my movements flow together and are smooth. So I was trying to string together some familiar movements from back home into a sort of dance,” she smiles at him, shy and small, and his heart stutters in his chest at the pull of her lips. She starts moving slowly, her cheeks still tinted with a soft blush, her arms flowing gracefully around her as she guides the water through the air. “You should try it.”

“Oh, I- I can’t dance.” Blood rushes to his cheeks, the idea of dancing with Katara terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

“Come on, you said you’d practice with me!” Her smile pulls across her face, and Zuko swallows past his nerves.

“I said ‘maybe’. Plus, I don’t know how to dance.” It’s a half truth- the only dances he knows are formal and stiff, nothing like the lyrical forms Katara is doing.

“Just mirror me. Please?”  _ How could I ever say no to her? _ He steps up in front of her, conjuring a stream of fire to match Katara’s water. She bends her knee and leans low, swinging her arm down and out in a wide arc. Zuko does the same, his fire trailing behind his hand as he moves it along. She brings her water up over her head, twisting it in a spiral around her body while she turns, and he does the same. He’s never considered himself graceful, and the movements feel a little off while he tries to combine them with his fire. He experiments and puts a little more force behind his moves, still mirroring Katara, and his flames grow brighter, trailing bigger and longer after his hands.

“You said you couldn’t dance,” Katara smirks at him as she moves around him, circling him and his fire.

“I can’t.” A reluctant smile emerges on his face as he moves with her, and flames burst forth from his foot as he kicks high into the air.

“Oh, look at you, mister fancy pants!” He laughs at her words, a real, hearty laugh, something that happens very rarely. She raises both arms into the air, the stream of water bursting into hundreds of tiny droplets, and as her hands reach their apex, the water freezes, falling down to the earth as snow.

“Wow,” they stand facing each other, both breathing heavily and a little sweaty. “Who’s the fancy pants now?” She laughs, the sound like wind chimes blowing in a warm breeze as the snow falls around them. 

His cheeks hurt from the effort of smiling, something he hasn’t experienced in longer than he can remember, and an odd warmth spreads through his chest as he looks at Katara’s smile. The endless night stretches above them, the heavens running circles above their heads, and even with every star bright and burning above him, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as beautiful as her.

Xx

He’s been thinking about Katara’s midnight practice with her water a lot lately. Not just the images that he can’t seem to scrub from his mind, but about using something familiar to practice manipulating their elements. He’s never really tried integrating his element into any other movements, but one night as they spar, he has an idea.

“What if we tried to use our elements instead of our swords?” Katara’s progressed a fair amount in the two weeks that they’ve been travelling, her attacks more confident and her footwork more steady as the days pass.

“What do you mean?” She’s looking at him with a crease between her brows, confusion written all over her face.

“Exactly what I said,” he puts his swords away in their scabbard and summons his fire to his hands. “We have to get better at combat, so I figure this is a good way to practice.”

“Okay,” she doesn’t sound like she has much faith in him, but she sheaths her sword and pulls some water to her hands.

They circle each other as normal, and Katara strikes first, her water coming straight at him. He tries to make a shield using his fire, and it sort of works, except he gets a face full of hot steam as a result.

“Ah!” He lurches back, almost tripping over his feet in his haste to back up. He’s lucky the steam wasn’t any hotter, otherwise he’d have another burn to add to his collection.

“Zuko!” Katara is at his side in an instant. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting that to happen,” he wipes the condensation off of his face. “Let’s try again.”

The two of them are clumsy, their moves either too sharp or too smooth, their respective elements flying every which way with no kind of organization. He tries to send his fire towards Katara in a sideways arc, but it peters out before it gets to her.

“Augh!” he throws his hands up in the air, his frustration coming to a head. “This is pointless.”

“It’s not that bad.”  _ Don’t lash out, don’t lash out, don’t- _

“That’s easy for you to say!”  _ Fuck.  _ “I could burn you if I’m not careful! The worst you’ll do to me is give me a scratch!”

“What, my water isn’t powerful enough? You don’t think it’s a good weapon?” Katara’s hands are on her hips, which is never a good sign.

“That’s not what I meant! I have to be extra careful not to burn you, but you don’t have to worry about that.”

“I could still hurt you! I have to be careful too!”

“I know that! I just-,” he grabs his head with his hands, gripping fistfulls of his hair to try to calm down. “This is stupid. We’re obviously not ready for this yet. It was a dumb idea.”

“It wasn’t a dumb idea, Zuko. We just need more practice before this will actually work,” he groans and sits down on the spot, flopping onto his back and staring up at the stars. “I guess we’ll stick with the simpler stuff for now.”

Katara sits next to him, lying on her back to look up at the stars as well. He takes some deep breaths, calming himself down as best he can. It hurts to fail at something; he’s always been hesitant to try new things, the fear of failure almost paralyzing. His father had made sure that Zuko had known that failure was absolutely  _ not _ an option when he was younger, and it’s a lesson he’s carried with him into adulthood in more ways than one.

“Remember you told me that I can’t expect the world of myself?” He turns to look at Katara, her eyes glowing softly in the darkness of the night. “That goes for you too, you know. If I can't expect the world of myself, you can’t expect it of yourself either.” He lets out a heavy breath.

“I know.” They lapse into silence, the sounds of the forest around them the only noise they hear for a long while. He feels his eyes starting to drift closed, his blinks becoming slower and heavier…

“Want some tea?” He can always count on her to have the offer of a nice hot cup of tea on deck, and it soothes a part of his soul that he hadn’t even known was sore.

“Sure.” They sit together next to the fire, the crackling warmth seeping into his muscles as his frustration ebbs away.

“Hey, what if you tried adding your fire to your  _ kata _ ?” He raises his brow at her. “No, think about it! You know the routine by heart, so adding your fire to it will be easier.”

“But what will you do?” He has to admit, it does sound like a good idea. A small step in the right direction rather than a giant leap seems much more manageable than what they’re doing now.

“Maybe I’ll just follow along with your  _ kata _ . Would that be okay?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Katara floats the tea into their mugs, a small smile on her face, and Zuko finds that he’s actually looking forward to the next morning.

They sleep soundly, Zuko waking with the sun and opening his eyes to find a still slumbering Katara just a foot away from him. Her face is relaxed in sleep, dark curls spread around her head like a halo on her bedroll. An errant strand bisects her face, and his hand itches to push it away, to tuck it behind her ear and trail his fingers over her smooth cheek.

“Katara.” They had agreed last night that it would be best if they get up together so Zuko could guide her through his  _ kata _ after they meditate. She doesn’t stir, instead taking a deep inhale and licking her lips. His eyes follow the motion, a subtle heat stirring in his gut. “Katara, wake up,” he speaks a little louder, and she groans quietly before rolling over. “Come on, you gotta get up,” he resorts to laying his hand on her shoulder and shaking her the tiniest bit, to which she groans again. “This was your idea, remember?”

“It’s a dumb idea.” She throws her arm over her eyes, almost whacking him as he laughs at her.

“You’re full of those,” the smirk is evident in his voice, and she lifts her arm up just enough to glare at him.  _ She’s cute when she’s grumpy. _

“Shut up,” she elbows his ribs. His face is starting to hurt from smiling so much, which is a more and more common phenomenon.

“Come on, sleepy, it’s time to get up,” Katara grumbles behind him as he rises, twisting his torso and cracking his back a few times before stretching his hands high over his head. He turns around and catches her looking at him; he must still be groggy from his sleep, because he swears that he can see a faint pink coloring her cheeks. “I’ll meet you out there. Don’t fall back asleep.”

Zuko steps outside into the crisp morning air; spring is well underway, the early mornings and late evenings still mostly cool, but immensely refreshing. He sits down in a lotus position, resting his open palms face up on his knees, and closes his eyes to breathe the waking world deep into his lungs. He concentrates on his senses; the thick smell of pine and fresh morning dew, the tickling feeling of the long grass around him shifting with the light breeze. The sounds of Katara exiting their tent and walking groggily over to him grace his ears, her steps slow and dragging slightly as she makes her way towards him. Peeking out of his right eye, he sees her as she sits next to him, mirroring his position.

“Have you ever meditated before?” This is his favorite part of the day, the still morning silence broken only by twittering bird songs and rustling pine needles.

“No.” She shifts and settles, turning her head to look at him.

“Alright, I’ll guide you through it. Close your eyes and relax your body,” his eyes slip closed. “Breath in deep through your nose,” they inhale in tandem, “and out through your mouth. Concentrate on your senses; the smells and sounds around you, the weight of your body pressing into the ground.” He waits a moment before continuing, “try to clear your mind. Don’t push your thoughts away, just notice them, and let them pass. Focus on your breathing, and just relax.” They lapse into a soft silence, the sun rising slowly as the forest comes to life around them. They meditate for a short while, much shorter than Zuko’s usual mediation, before he peels his eyes open.

“How do you feel?” Katara still has her eyes closed, the picture of serenity glowing in the warm light of the sunrise.

“Calm.” Her voice is soft and quiet, conjuring a strange feeling of longing inside Zuko’s chest.

“Good. Come back to yourself slowly, and when you’re ready, we’ll start the  _ kata _ .” His muscles stretch and warm as he rises silently from his seat, rejuvenated and ready for the day ahead. Katara yawns from her place on the ground, his lips curling into a small smile at her persistent tiredness.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Katara swings her arms over her head, reaching her hands up into the sky. Zuko averts his eyes, trying desperately not to look at the strip of skin that exposes itself with the motion.

They stretch for a few minutes, warming up their muscles before diving into the  _ kata. _ Zuko leads Katara through the moves one by one, ensuring that she’s using the proper form before moving on to prevent injuries. They go through the whole set once before trying to add in their elements; the idea had no doubt been a good one, but it’s anything but easy for the both of them. Zuko finds himself stumbling at an embarrassing frequency as he attempts to control his fire while also going through the coordinated motions of his  _ kata. _ Katara fares no better than he does, and as the minutes wear on, he feels like he’s getting the hang of it while Katara trails behind.

“Why can’t I get this?” Heavy breaths push from her lungs, a desperate look on her face when she turns to Zuko.

“Maybe you should try making the movements a little more… fluid. Water’s all bendy and winding, so maybe if you do that it’ll make it easier.” She gives him a shrewd look before beginning again, and the improvement is noticeable immediately. Before where she had lost balance, she now transitions smoothly into a new form, successfully keeping her water controlled as she flows through the  _ kata. _

The morning passes quickly, and soon they continue on through the forest, their spirits high due to the relative success of their training earlier in the day. It had been tough, but it was the first time that Zuko had felt like he accomplished something valuable in the last month since meeting Katara. They swap stories as they walk, playing silly games with each other when conversation runs dry.

“Okay, I see something…” Katara taps her chin with a delicate finger. “Green.”

“Seriously? The whole forest is green!” She laughs at his bewildered expression, an unbidden smile growing on his face.

“I’ll give you a hint: it’s not the trees or the grass.”

“Wow, that really narrows it down,” she continues giggling, the sound more beautiful than any bird song. “You’re too good to me, Katara, really.”

“Shut up and guess,” her elbow collides with his side in a playful gesture.

“I don’t know,” his eyes wander over the scene before them as they walk. “Is it that random patch of moss?”

“Moss is the same as grass,” luminous blue eyes roll at his lame attempt.

“No, moss is moss. It’s totally different than grass.” Poking fun at her like this fills him with an unfamiliar yet addicting feeling of comfort. The easy teasing and stupid jokes tell of a safe friendship with Katara, something he hasn’t felt since the last time he saw Azula. Even so, what he feels with Katara is vastly different. His laughs are punctuated by a tingling in his limbs, his smile imbued with sunshine when she draws it on his face; his affection for her is like sugar coating his tongue, tactile and sweet. It’s dangerous, this closeness he feels to Katara, but he pushes the threat to the back of his mind. It’s been a long time since he’s let himself enjoy something like this, and he welcomes the feeling wholeheartedly. 

Xx

The stars twinkle gently, diamonds thrown haphazardly across the indigo sky hanging above them as they go through their  _ kata  _ that night. Zuko pushes flames from his fists and feet, guiding the heat in his chest through his limbs and out into bright bursts of fire. It’s a cathartic release, but by the time they call it quits he’s utterly exhausted. Both of his shirts lie crumpled on the ground, the heat from his fire adding to the warmth of exerting his body and making him sweat. Cool spring air blows across his chest, and he sighs as the refreshing chill that shivers along his skin.

“I’d call that a success,” Katara towers above him from where he sits on the ground, a flick of her wrist ridding her of the glistening sweat that had stuck to her skin.

“Yeah,” he marvels at the usefulness of her gift. “I can agree with that.” 

Try as he might, he knows the images of Katara’s skin shining under the stars as she moved her water won’t be leaving his mind for some time, if at all. His infatuation for her grows every day, the happiness he finds in her softly glowing eyes and big smile something that he’s grown dangerously accustomed to. He has no idea what will happen once this journey is over, but he hopes against all logic that he won’t have to part from her. It’s a foolish thought, he knows, but a small part of him wishes that he could stay with her, that she’d let him keep working on her farm, or that he could settle down in her village,  _ anything _ so that he wouldn’t have to give up his time with her. Contemplating the dreary life Zuko had been leading before he met her brings nothing but vague sadness and disappointment, his memories of the past a dull grey backdrop for his technicolor days with Katara by his side. 

“Can I see the map?” Her question breaks him out of his reverie, and he slides the worn parchment out of his bag and spreads it out before them. “Where are we now?”

“Right around here,” he points to a spot in the middle of a small forest. “We’re about two weeks out from the next town.”

“I think we’ll need to stop for supplies. Our rations are starting to run low; you’ll probably have to go hunting at least once before we get there.” He nods. “I’ve been thinking that I might be able to freeze some stew if we make one. That way we could store some of it and reheat it the next morning.”

“That’s smart,” he takes a quick inventory of their bags. “We might be able to sell one of these blankets too if you’re willing to. It’s getting warmer so we won’t need all of them, and it’ll help lighten the load.”

“That’s fine. We still have plenty of money, so that’s good. Maybe we can get a pillow,” she looks at him with bright eyes, and he chuckles at her smirk.

“We’ll be living in the lap of luxury.” The smile on his face matches hers as he continues to look at the map. “We’ll have to find a way through the mountains,” he eyes the symbols for the peaks on the map. “Maybe the people in the next town will be willing to help us. It seems like the town itself is at a higher elevation than we are now, so maybe they can point us in the direction of a trail or something.”

“Hopefully we can find someone there who’s willing to even talk to us,” their eyes meet, concern abundant behind the glow of her irises. “What’s the town called?”

“Yangchen.”

“Never heard of it,” Katara’s lips purse, her brows drawn with worry.

“We’ll figure it out,” feeling bold, he lays a hand gently on her shoulder, the lines on her face relaxing with a sigh.

“I hope so.” They continue looking at the map, reading the names and symbols by the light of the gibbous moon. Zuko doesn’t know what they’ll do if they can’t find anyone to help them in Yangchen. They could always pay someone off, but they’d no doubt ask for a hefty sum of coins. Once again he feels that the supposed “blessing” of his gift is more akin to a curse, and wonders not for the first time why he’s bothering with this mission at all. But when he looks at Katara, her dark eyebrows pulled down in contemplation, her full bottom lip caught between her teeth, the curve of her back as she hunches over the map, he feels glad to be here no matter the uncertainty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	6. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soft Zuko is my weakness 🥺

Since going through Zuko’s  _ kata _ with the added flair of their elements, Katara has been feeling more and more confident about her abilities. They haven’t tried any more sparring, but she’s come up with a few cool moves she thinks would be useful in a fight. She’s gotten the hang of freezing her water, something she had never even considered doing until recently, and has been putting most of her energy into forming ice daggers, ready to be thrown at a moment's notice. She’s also been working on getting the hang of what she’s affectionately calling her “water whip,” which has resulted in not only frustration, but welts on both her and Zuko from her lack of control. After a few mishaps, Zuko had decided that they should probably stand farther apart while practicing, something Katara had accepted with a deep flush of embarrassment.

They’ve also been working on Katara’s reflexes; Zuko’s are honed to a deadly sharpness as a result of his years on the road, but Katara’s leave something to be desired. He tells her that it’ll help with her sword fighting as well, and as much as she’s improving on that front, she still has a long way to go. Zuko’s come up with some funny ways of honing her reflexes, the most recent being a game they’ve started to play when they settle down for the night. Katara will rest her hands lightly on top of Zukos, palm to palm, and her job is to pull them away before he can flip his over and slap the back of hers. 

“That tickles!” Zuko’s fingers run lightly along her palms, making her twitchy and giggly.

“That’s the point,” he’s not quite laughing, but she can see the lines at the corner of his eyes crinkle with the slight tilt of his mouth. He jerks his hands back, the miniscule movement causing Katara to pull hers back entirely.

“No fair!” She returns her hands to their place hovering just over his, the charge between their palms hot and electric.

“It is fair.” His hands move lightning quick, and he’s slapping the back of hers playfully in the span of a blink. He’s smirking at her when she looks up into his eyes, the heat housed within their luminosity making her flush. “Try again.”

They go on like this for a while, the feather light stroke of Zuko’s fingers on her palms making her shiver and sweat all at once. There’s definitely a tension in the air, an undercurrent of something deeper flowing below their playful game, and it’s got Katara feeling like dry kindling waiting for a spark.

“Alright, your turn.” After many, many losses, they switch positions so that Katara’s hands are underneath Zuko’s. A strange thrill courses through her as she teases him, running her fingers along his palms like he had done to her. She holds his eyes firmly with hers and swears that the air around them is rippling with energy, her heart pounding at an incredible speed nestled in her chest.

“Shit!”  _ I thought I had him that time!  _ She has yet to best him, his hands flashing out of her trajectory with alarming speed any time she tries to slap them.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” his voice is a low rumble, the familiar rasp raising goosebumps on her arms.  _ Who knew there could be so much sexual tension in a stupid game? _ She’s not blaming her losses on Zuko’s distracting presence, but it’s definitely affecting her more than she’d like to admit.

They’ve known each other for less than two months, but spending all day every day with Zuko has made it extremely difficult for her to ignore his attractiveness. She had known that he was handsome when she met him, but travelling with him has shown her a whole other side of his beauty. The way he moves is graceful and lithe, almost like a cat; he’s light on his feet and flexible, surprisingly so for someone his height. She doesn’t think there’s one muscle on his body that isn’t toned, and she’s looked a shameful amount of times to try and find one. By far, though, her favorite part of him is his smile. The way his eyes crinkle and his pink lips stretch over straight teeth never fails to stir a warmth inside her, his laugh stoking the smouldering embers in her heart. She’s never been in love, her knowledge of the subject learned only through the lens of some of the books her Gran Gran had brought her over the years, but based on how she feels around him and how much she wants to kiss him at any given moment, she thinks that if she doesn’t love him now, she will very soon.

“Hello? You in there?” She flinches out of her thoughts at his words, Zuko’s single eyebrow raised in question.

“Yeah, sorry,” her cheeks flush what is no doubt a deep crimson, and Zuko’s head tilts just the tiniest bit in question.  _ Did it just get, like, ten degrees warmer? _

“Ah!” The tips of their fingers brush as she moves to slap his hands, taking advantage of her unintentional distraction.

“Ha! I got you!”

“Nuh uh, that doesn’t count.”

“Yes it does!” she’s irrationally happy for simply beating Zuko at his own game, but it’s an accomplishment nonetheless. “I got you, fair and square.”

“Fine,” stunning luminous gold shines out at her as he rolls his eyes. “You got me. Are you proud of yourself?”

“Yes, actually.” There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye, one that matches the stars winking in the heavens above. But what really gets her, as always, is his smile; as bright as the sunrise, it pulls her in, heat creeping back into her cheeks when she realizes that she’s been staring at his mouth.

“You’re getting faster.” They’re both sitting on the ground, but he still has to look down at her, something in his gaze sending warm tendrils spiraling through her body.

“Well, I have a good teacher.” Roses bloom under Zuko’s cheeks, and he rubs the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture.

“I’m not that great. You’re just a good student.” The atmosphere crackles between them, and she so badly wants to reach up to him, to see if his skin really is as soft as it looks. 

“Do you want some tea?” She turns away to grab the small kettle before she does something stupid, blind to the dissappointment in Zuko’s eyes.

Xx

The next day is warm as they trudge through the dense forest, sunshine breaking through the abundance of pine needles and throwing fractals of light onto the path ahead of them. There’s barely a breeze to disturb the sweat pooling at the small of her back, her wrist tiring from constantly having to pull the sweat from her clothes and body. Zuko runs hotter than she does, something about being able to manipulate fire increasing his body temperature, and she tries not to flush each time she guides the sweat off his glistening skin and throws it into the woods around them. They’ve been mostly quiet today, the shameless flirting of the night before birthing a stilted awkwardness between them. Out of nowhere Zuko throws his arm out in front of her to block her path. His face is creased with concern and concentration when she looks at him, worry pooling in her gut.

“What is it?” It seems like he’s listening to something, her words escaping her throat as whispers as she tries to listen too.

“We’re being followed,” his voice is almost too low to hear, and he’s grabbing her hand and leading her swiftly off the road and into the forest before she can really comprehend his words.

They step quietly through the brush, Zuko’s face turned up while Katara tries to hear exactly what it is that’s got him so skittish. He stops them at the base of a tree, wordlessly pointing upwards to indicate that he wants her to get up and climb it. She steps up onto his laced fingers, and he pushes high enough so that she can haul herself up onto a branch. She looks down at him, and he waves his hand for her to continue upwards, her pack weighing heavy on her shoulders as she does her best to ascend the tree as quietly as she can. The branches start to thin the higher she goes, her breaths heaving when she decides that she’s high enough to stop. Surprisingly (or maybe not so much), Zuko is right behind her, getting up next to her on the sturdy branch quickly and peering out to where they can see the path. He’s awfully close to her, and her heart jumps around in her chest from the exertion of climbing the tree and from the added nervousness his proximity brings.

The road is empty for a few minutes, and Katara is beginning to doubt Zuko’s assessment of a threat until she sees a handful of rough looking men congregating on the path. They talk for a minute or two before splitting up again, and she looks to Zuko to figure out their best move.

“They’re looking for us.” His arm is positioned almost right above her, gripping a branch to keep him steady, the muscles in his arm flexing with the effort.

“What should we do?”

“We’ll have to stay up here for a while until they give up. You should get comfortable.” 

She moves to sit in the cradle the branches make against the tree’s trunk, Zuko grabbing her arm to steady her as she lowers down. Zuko stays standing sentinel as he watches and listens; she doesn’t know how long they wait for, but it feels like hours. It’s a special kind of torture that she doesn’t have anything to distract her from Zuko’s looming physique and she’s secretly thankful when he sits down for a short while. 

“Why are they following us?” She thinks that it’s pretty clear that they’re carrying nothing of value, and she hadn’t even seen anyone on the path the whole time they’ve been travelling.

“There’s a good chance that they’re just thugs hoping that we have some money on us. But,” his mouth is a hard slash on his face. “It’s always possible that they’re after something else.”

“Like what?” The look he gives her sends a chill down her spine.  _ He can’t mean... _

“Like an attractive young woman they can take back to wherever they came from,” she wraps her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the warm air. “It doesn’t happen very often,” Zuko’s eyes are soft, a small comfort in a cruel world. “But you never know. It’s better to be safe.” She nods wordlessly, her brows pulling together with anxiety.

“We should work on our combat skills more.” She wants to feel safe out on the road, the idea of thugs and bandits following them enough to convince her of the dangers of the world outside of her little village.

There’s a snap underneath them, and both of their heads whip down to look towards the bed of the forest. There’s noise coming from the ground that sounds like movement, and even though it could very well just be an animal, Katara feels an icy fear slithering through her veins. She hates feeling helpless, almost angry that she’s been reduced to a scared little girl, and vows to put her all into honing her element into a formidable weapon. Zuko must see her anxiety, and he slots his fingers in between hers in a show of solidarity. Beneath the fear and determination, her heart swoops at the feeling of his hand in hers, and her muscles relax minutely. Eventually the steps fade, but they stay in the tree for a while longer before shuffling down back onto solid ground, resolute in their decision to train harder.

Xx

“Come on, put your back into it!” She sends her water whip flying towards a snarky Zuko, who ducks and sends a stream of fire out of his heel her way.

“Shut up, I am putting my back into it!” She jumps over his fire and rolls upon landing, using her momentum to throw a large wave at him. “Ah!” One of Zuko’s fire balls comes close to her feet, scorching the ground in its wake.

“You said you wouldn’t get scared!” He goes to take a step forward, and Katara seizes her opportunity. She pulls water up from the ground and ices it over, causing him to slip and fall. “Oof!”

“Oh, that looks like it hurt.” She smirks as he lays on the ground with his arms outstretched, his chest heaving along with hers. 

They hadn’t been sparring for too long, but the past handful of nights they’ve been able to best each other a few times. It turns out that integrating their elements with Zuko’s  _ kata _ had been instrumental in learning how to wield their gifts more aggressively. They had each bested each other once so far tonight- not that Katara is keeping count.

She can’t help but tease him. “Reading to give up?” Zuko pushes himself up onto his elbows across from her, a mischievous glint in his bright eyes and an attractive smirk growing on his face.

“You wish,” quick as a flash he’s back on his feet, jumping and kicking a volley of plumes at her that she has to duck and roll to avoid. 

Sparring with Zuko is exhilarating; adrenaline crackles like lightning in her bones, sore muscles forgotten and caution thrown to the wind as she rains ice pellets the size of her fist down onto him. She knows he’s too fast to fall for it, a swath of flame arcing over him and melting the ice into a harmless cloud of steam. Katara tries her ice trick again hoping that she can trip him up, but he anticipates her attack and retaliates by sending a spinning wheel of fire straight towards her. Jumping into the air to avoid his attack, she prepares to blast him with a jet of water upon landing, but when she gets her footing he’s nowhere to be found. Blue eyes narrow as she listens intently; Zuko is silent as death when he wants to be, his steps measured but fast when his target is in sight. He had taken her hunting once to help her sharpen her own stealth skills, and he had stalked a skittish doe in complete silence before landing an arrow straight in its neck.

Suddenly he’s behind her, pulling her arm behind her back and pressing the long line of his body up against hers while he wraps his other arm around her neck in a loose headlock. He would never actually hurt her, but it’s clear who the winner is.

“Do you yield?” His voice is gruff and rasping, his hot breath puffing out against the shell of her ear. Heat coils in her stomach as she pants against the hard planes of his chest, a shiver travelling down her spine like a drop of ice cold water.

“Yeah,” she nods, trying not to mourn the loss of his heat against her back. Time slows down as he lets her go, and she tries to brand the feel of him into her memory. “Well, that was fun. I think we’re getting better.”

“I’d say so,” Zuko stretches his arms over his head as he walks back to their camp, a tantalizing strip of pale skin peeking out from under his shirt.  _ This man is going to kill me. _ “We’re getting closer to Yangchen,” he’s got the map unfurled in front of him. “Unfortunately, I think we’ll be seeing more people on the road now that we’re close. It’s only about a week away.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that we’re getting better at combat, then.”

“Yeah. But once we use our elements in combat,” his eyes are hard beneath the otherworldly glow. “People are gonna know what we are. And if we let them get away they’ll probably try to come back with more friends.”

“What, are you saying we should just kill anyone who attacks us?”

“No, not at all.” He rolls the map back up and shoves it into his pack. “But people are messed up. The eyes of Othered sell for a lot of money on the black market,” she recoils, her stomach filling with acid. “Especially ours since the colors are so rare. You just need to be aware of the danger we’re going to eventually be in.”

“I don’t think I can kill someone,” her back hunches over in defeat, Zuko’s hand coming up to rub it in consolation.

“We don’t have to worry about that right now. But if it’s life or death…”

“I know,” she leans her head over onto his shoulder, and he wraps a warm arm around her. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Yeah,” she can’t see his face, but his voice sounds like his mind is far away. “Otherwise he would have killed me. There was one guy that just kept coming after me. No matter what I did, he always caught up to me.”

“Just for your eyes?” She sits up to look at him, and is surprised to see sadness on his face.

“No,” his head tilts to look up at the stars. “He just wanted to kill me.”

“What? Why?” She can’t imagine why anyone would want to kill Zuko, but then again, she still doesn’t know very much about him.

“It’s complicated.” This is the response she usually gets to any question that could lead to Zuko exposing personal information. She wonders what he’s hiding, and if he’ll ever even tell her. “I was a fugitive.” She stays silent, not wanting to press him. “It wasn’t because of anything I did, really. Just… who I was.” There’s much more behind his story, she can see it in the loss and sadness in his eyes, but she doesn’t think he’s going to tell her any more tonight. It’s the most he’s ever spoken about his life in one sitting.

“Well, I like who you are,” she laces her fingers with his, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “And if anyone tries to kill you now, they’re going to have to get through me first.” He leans his head on top of hers, the moment strangely intimate, filling Katara with a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire burning before them.

Xx

It’s still dark when she wakes, crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl the only sounds outside the tent. She doesn't usually wake up in the middle of the night, and confusion swirls in her head until she rolls over onto her side. Zuko is twitching in his sleep, his hands clenching and unclenching in the light blanket he rests under, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. Sleep clouds her mind as she struggles to comprehend what’s happening;  _ he must be having a nightmare. _ She toys with the idea of waking him up, not knowing if it would be too much an invasion of privacy or if he would be upset or angry. His breathing picks up pace rapidly, and in a single moment he’s hyperventilating, still asleep and trapped in a dream.

“Zuko!” She lays her hand on his shoulder to shake him, but at the lightest touch of her hand his eyes shoot open. He sits up, propping himself on his elbows, eyes blown wide and gasping for breath. “Zuko, it’s okay. It’s just me.”The fear in his eyes is something she’s never seen before, and her concern swells with each of his sharp inhalations.

“Katara,” he blinks a few times, seeming to come back to himself. She twists her wrist and wicks away the sweat that had been stuck to his shirt and clinging to his skin.

“Are you okay? You were having a nightmare,” she’s turned towards him on her side, watching the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he catches his breath.

“Yeah.” It’s clearly a lie. The glow of his irises winks out as he lays back down on his bedroll with his eyes closed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Her head is propped up on her hand, and she can see the lines still creasing his forehead. The blankets shuffle as he turns towards her, and she drops her head back down to its place on the blanket she’s using as a pillow so she can look into his eyes. For a few minutes the only sounds are those of the forest around them, the rustle of the breeze and the ever present crickets. Her eyes droop closed, and she’s about to give up on getting an answer when he speaks.

“My father put a hit out on me,” his voice is as quiet as the breeze, almost lost in the small space of the tent. “The assassin he hired was the person that I killed.”

“Zuko,” she scoots a little closer to him so she can take his hands in hers. “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.” 

“He’s a terrible man.” The scarred side of his face is turned towards the sky, the little light creeping in through the tent highlighting the warped flesh.

“At least you’re not with him anymore, right?” The stiff skin of his scar pulls tight with his grimace.

“My sister is.” Katara’s heart breaks for him, the guilt and sorrow he feels bleeding into his words. “That’s what I was dreaming about. I left her there alone with him.” She wonders where his mother fits into the picture, but knows better than to ask.

“Zuko,” she takes a leap of faith and drapes her hand gently on his face, the scarred skin smooth under her fingers.

He doesn’t flinch, but she sees his lower lip tremble, and he shuts his eyes tight before he breaks. There’s nothing she can do but pull him gently into her, moving her hand over his damaged ear to cradle his head to her chest. He doesn’t make a sound, but she feels his body shaking in her embrace, her own tears gathering as she feels his soak into her shirt. A strong arm wraps around her waist and pulls her closer as he falls apart, and she strokes his hair in a soothing rhythm. The smell of his cinnamon soap filters in through her nose, and she can’t help but feel the desire to be here for him, like this, any time he needs her to be. There’s clearly so much pain inside of him that he’s never let out; she knows she can’t heal him, but she’d do whatever it took if it meant she could hold his hand through it all.

“I’m sorry,” his breathing has finally slowed, and the rasp of his voice is more intense than usual, his lips moving against her skin in a mumble. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Zuko,” she holds herself back from kissing the top of his head, a more difficult task than she thought it would be. “I’m here for you, no matter what. I know there’s a lot about your life that you haven’t told me, and that’s okay, but I need you to know that I’m here if you ever want to open up.” 

The hand on her back fists in her shirt, Zuko’s eyelashes tickling her neck when he blinks as they lay in silence. The rhythm of his breath steadies, soon falling to an even adagio against her chest as sleep takes him. Her fingers continue to card through his hair, her heart aching in her chest. It’s not pity that she feels for Zuko; he’s strong and steadfast regardless of whatever haunts him from his past. But she feels the trauma under his skin like a cyst, the ghosts of yesterday trailing him like a shadow, and she knows that pain all too well. She was lucky that she had her brother to lean on when she felt like standing on her own would mean falling apart, but that was a luxury she realizes that Zuko may not have had. She knows from what he’s told her that he was close to his sister, the thought of leaving her in an unsafe environment eating him up inside enough to give him nightmares, but the rest of his life is unknown to her still. How long has it been since he’s seen her? She can’t imagine not seeing her brother for any number of years, especially if she had left him somewhere that he was in danger. And why did Zuko leave if he knew Azula would be stuck alone with their father?

The thoughts circle like buzzards around her head as the night wears on around them. She doesn’t let go of Zuko, and his exhausted body doesn’t move so much as an inch. All she wants for him is to feel some peace. She wants his bright smile and soft laughter to be a constant in his days, wants to chase his demons away even if it takes all night. After what feels like hours, her eyes close of their own accord, and her resolve blows away with the breeze as she kisses the crown of Zuko’s head before drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any of my 90's babies remember slaps? anyway, i think i'm going to start updating 3 times a week- monday, wednesday, and friday, since i have so much of this story written out and my patience is almost non-existent (if any of you have read TOATS, you'll know what i mean). thanks for reading!


	7. The Monk

They’ve been on the road for a little over a month before they actually have to fight anyone. When Zuko had been on the road on his own, he had gotten into far too many fights in order to save his life, and he’s glad that they’ve avoided any violent human interaction up until this point. He attributes their luck to the location of Katara’s little village, the remoteness and tendency for the citizens to stay where they’re comfortable making for quiet roads in and out of the area. But, all good things must come to an end, usually sooner rather than later in Zuko’s experience, and their luck runs out about a day’s journey away from the mountain village of Yangchen.

He’s doing his best to act normal around Katara; his outburst the other day had left him feeling extremely embarrassed, the uncommon display of weakness something he tries his best to avoid at all times (another lesson violently drilled into his head at a young age). Thankfully, Katara hasn’t been treating him any differently aside from a few more lingering looks, his shame no doubt making her judge him more than she probably already had before his childish display of uncontrolled emotion. The feeling of her embrace is seared into his skin, the ghost of her fingers brushing through his hair a howling spectre that haunts him every night. The bedroll he sleeps on feels empty and big, the space between them somehow too vast even in their tiny tent, a crack in the earth that he’s too afraid to jump across yawning between them. It’s so stupid; he’s known Katara for just under two months and he’s already yearning for her every waking moment (and frequently in his sleep), folding into himself at night and pretending like he doesn’t miss her comforting touch.  _ Fucking pathetic. _

The sun is bright where it shines on their path, warm golden light splashing through the treetops in luminous rays. The two Othered are talking about what supplies they’ll pick up in town when Zuko sees them; three shabbily dressed men ambling up the path towards them, talking animatedly with slightly slurred words. The three men are far enough down the path for him to warn Katara, but too close for them to duck into the forest unnoticed.

“Katara-”

“I see them,” the trepidation in her voice is hidden under a layer of steely determination. “Do you want to fight?”

“What other choice do we have?” An unbidden daydream forms in his mind, one that starts with him pulling Katara off to the side of the road to kiss her senseless in the guise of getting out of the eyes of the strange men without being too suspicious. He cuts the daydream off sharply before it can get any father, pushing the thoughts of the two of them getting lost in each other far from his mind. “Just keep your head down and follow my lead.”

His heartbeat quickens as he raises his hand to lay gently on the small of her back, his touch lighter than the sun's soft rays beaming down on them. He tilts his head down just enough to hide his eyes from the men growing steadily closer, turning towards Katara to whisper in her ear. The scent of her lavender soap clings to her hair, and the struggle to stay present rages inside of him as his concentration wavers.

“Hopefully if we keep our eyes hidden they’ll walk right by,” Katara shivers under his touch. “We’ll be fine. If it comes to it, we can take them.”

“So we’re playing the cuddly couple game, huh?” Blood rushes to his face, Katara’s hand snaking up to wrap around his waist.

“I-” Her girlish giggle interrupts him, the coded affirmation of the plan pulling a nervous breath from him that he hadn't realized he’d been holding. “So… how about that weather?” Her laughter never fails to draw a smile on his face, and he almost forgets about the men approaching them. 

The three men pass right by them, the pungent smell of alcohol trailing the group as they continue on. A heavy sigh escapes Zuko as Katara relaxes against his side.

“Hey!” Their relief is short lived; both of their spines stiffen at the tipsy stranger’s words.

“Ignore him.” Katara’s grip tightens around his waist.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing with an ugly fuck like that?” He takes a deep breath, used to the mockery that comes along with his scar. “Hey, I’m talking to you!” A dark bottle smashes at his heels, little shards of glass bouncing harmlessly off of his long pants as both he and Katara jump at the unexpected attack.  _ Damn it. _

He spits his retort over his shoulder, “fuck off.”

“Why don’t you let the lady speak for herself?” One of the other men speaks up, his voice nasally and pitched higher than the first.

“Fuck off,” Katara snaps, and the  _ shink _ of blades leaving their sheaths travel back to reach their ears.

“Bitch.” The second man hisses the curse at Katara.

Creases form on Zuko’s forehead as he makes to turn around and pull out his swords, but before he can even move, Katara has whipped her water towards the man, freezing it up his body from his ankles to his chin.

“Call me a bitch again.” Her eyes are steel, harsh blue unsoftened by the tell-tale glow of Othered. The three men’s eyes widen at the sight before them; seeing one Othered out on the road would have been strange enough, but two travelling together is simply unheard of.

“Freaks!” Split flies from the incapacitated man’s mouth, and the other two charge at Zuko and Katara. 

Katara stays distanced, swinging her water around in a deadly ribbon as she twirls and whips it at one of the men. Zuko meets the other halfway, his dual swords clashing with the man's at eye level. The scent of alcohol rides on the man’s breath, his yellow teeth bared in a warped smile as he pulls his own sword back to attack again. A loud cry proceeds the man’s attack, a straight charge with his sword raised high, and Zuko almost rolls his eyes at the predictable technique, easily parrying with a swift arc of his left sword that clears the way for his counter with the right. Surprisingly agile for someone inebriated, the man jumps back to avoid Zuko’s attack, stumbling just a little upon landing. The man charges again, and instead of attacking directly, Zuko waits for the man to get close enough before dropping to the ground and windmilling his legs around to knock the man flat onto his face on the ground. Grabbing the lapels of the man’s shirt, Zuko hoists him up off the ground to deliver a swift hit to the man’s temple with the butt of his sword that knocks him unconscious.

A shriek pulls Zuko’s attention behind him, where the one other man lays sprawled on the ground a few yards away from Katara. She must have knocked the wind out of him; he’s gulping for air like a beached fish for water as the frozen man looks at his companion with fear in his eyes. Katara sends her water back into the skin at her hip and takes Zuko’s hand when he runs up to her so they can make their escape. His lungs burn as they run, his hand clenched tight around Katara’s and legs aching with exertion as they rocket down the worn road.

The sun is brushing the horizon when they finally come to a stop, chests heaving with the effort of catching their breath. They had run for a while, only stopping when Katara had tripped and dragged them both to the ground, dirt caking on the knees of both of their trousers. Zuko finally steadies his breathing after what feels like forever, heavy exhaustion creeping up his body, the weight so tangible that he doesn’t even want to get up. 

Katara turns to him from where they sit perched at the base of a tree. “I think we did pretty good.” He looks over at her, panting and sweating and glistening in the golden hour sunlight, a wry smile on her face and triumph in those glowing blue eyes.  _ Am I sure she’s not an angel? I’m so going to hell. _

“Yeah,” the corner of his mouth pulls up in a tired grin. “I’d say so.” 

Her laugh is a study in disbelief, a single huff that speaks volumes of the day they’ve had. She slumps against his shoulder, and if Zuko thought exhaustion would stop the butterflies from rallying in his stomach at her touch, he was dead wrong.

The clear, azure sky deepens into a soft indigo, swirls of stars dancing above their heads as they settle down. Too tired to erect the tent after their meager meal, the two lay out their bedrolls under the stars, the spring air comfortable as it hangs around them.

“So, we’ll get to Yangchen tomorrow?” Katara is rolled on her side, her head pillowed on her arm and eyes bright in the darkness.

“Yeah,” he yawns. “If we get up early we’ll get there by midday.”

“What, you mean earlier than you already get up?” Her smirk ignites the sparklers lining his nerves, the smell of her floral soap making his legs feel weak even as he simply lies next to her.

“Well, I can always skip my morning meditation, but you can’t blame me if I fly off the handle trying to haggle over the cost of rice.” Her eyes crinkle with her laughter, the sound a siren song calling him to her lips.

“No, you wouldn’t do that. You would take a deep breath, find a secluded area, and kick a wall so hard you’d break your toe.”

“You sure have a lot of faith in me.” Katara’s eyes soften at his words, a rosy heat sliding swiftly on to his cheeks at the undisguised affection he finds there.

“I do.” Her voice is softer than the gentle breeze that ruffles her hair, and he’s never wanted to kiss her more than he does in this moment. As it is, he’s realizing more and more that he wants to kiss her literally all the time, and it takes everything in him to keep the feral urge at bay, stomping it down and trying to bury it in the back of his mind.

Her words float around in his head for the rest of the night, a lazy cycle of self doubt and tentative hope swirling through his thoughts. He’s never felt like he’s worth much of anything- his father had squashed any sense of self worth out of him like a sour grape at a very young age- but Katara makes him feel like maybe he isn’t so bad. Maybe he isn’t a massive failure and a disgrace to his family simply because of how he was born, maybe he can still do some good in this world despite his fucked up past. Katara seems to believe in him, as crazy as that is, so maybe there’s something in him that he can believe in too. Sleep washes over him, his dreams glowing with soft blue light and smelling faintly of lavender.

Xx

The village of Yangchen is stunning in its strangeness. The whole town is situated on the peak of a low mountain; it’s not very high up, but the top of the tall spire that marks the very tip reaches up into the sky just high enough to touch the misty clouds. Roads wind down the mountain in swirls and switchbacks, homes built straight into the mountainside. The village itself is dotted with more of those tall spires, but none nearly as impressive as the one at the very top. The trek up had been difficult and taken all morning, with every forward step meaning the air got thinner and thinner, but the unique architecture of the town is just visible around midday. The sun beats down on the gorgeous structures and their white walls, the brightness almost overwhelming. Katara’s eyes are blown wide and steeped with wonder, the small smile on her face more than enough to make the journey up to the town worth it.

Most of the people are dressed in shades of orange, yellow, or bown, their robes draping and loose, free to flutter in the wind. All of the local men, young and old, have smooth, shaved heads, some even sporting grey-blue arrow tattoos stretching up from beneath the back of their robes down to a point situated on their foreheads. The women are clad in the same colors and styles, their hairlines shaved to start much farther back on their heads than what is normal, probably to show off their own share of the strange tattoos. It’s clear that Zuko and Katara are outsiders, with Katara’s dark skin and Zuko’s dark hair not the only distinguishing factors. There are a few other nonlocals milling about, but the market is flooded with the colors that seem to represent the people of Yangchen.

It’s a shame that they can’t spend too much time inside the actual town marvelling at its beauty. The threat of their eyes being seen is a hefty weight after weeks of travelling alone, but they can’t forget why they’re really here. The constant breeze makes it difficult for Zuko to keep the hood of his robe over his eyes, and poor Katara has a death grip on her wide brimmed hat to keep it from flying off and sailing away on the breeze. They’ve barely made it into the market square and Zuko knows that people have already seen his glowing eyes, but the local’s reaction is more startling than his worry of being attacked. Most of them had barely reacted at all; no open show of hostility or fear has followed them into the market, no whispers carrying on the persistent zephyr that winds through the stalls.

“Is it just me,” Katara’s voice is a quiet murmur, “or do these people not care about who we are?” Zuko’s been wondering the same thing, and as a particularly strong breeze blows his hood off of his face, they get their answer.

“Excuse me,” both of them jump at the quiet voice at their backs, turning around to see a smiling old man adorned with a necklace of chunky wooden beads. “May I ask you to come with me?” He’s definitely seen their eyes, there’s no doubt about it, and Katara and Zuko shoot each other worried sideways glances. “No harm will come to you here, that I can promise.” Zuko shrugs his shoulders at Katara, and they follow the friendly man up the winding roads leading to the tallest spire.

He leads them into the monolith, where other locals sporting more of the arrow tattoos are milling about. All of them pause to lay their eyes on Zuko and Katara, but other than a handful of raised brows, their welcome is comfortable, if not warm. They follow after the old man up the winding stairs, finally entering a round room where four other old men sit. They all possess a similar necklace to the old man who’s led them here, who leaves them in the middle of the room to go sit with the others on a plush orange cushion. Zuko’s heart is beating so fast he thinks it might fly out of his chest, his pulse fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings with anticipation.

“What are your names?” The old man who has led them into the strange room speaks first, his soft voice surprisingly loud in the small space.

“Katara.” He commends her for the courage in her voice and tries to mimic it.

“Zuko.”

“Katara and Zuko,” the man spreads his arms wide with a soft smile. “Welcome to Yangchen. I’m sure you’ve noticed that we’ve treated you quite differently than most people would,” they both nod, Zuko’s tongue held in a vice in his mouth. “Here in Yangchen we do not punish those who are born Othered. It is by no choice of your own that The Source has blessed you with your gifts.” Zuko’s single brow raises so far up his head that it may as well absorb into his hairline.

“Wait, you know about The Source?” Katara’s voice is a pitch higher than normal, her confusion evident in her voice.

“I think you’ll find in your travels that more people know about The Source than you think,” there’s a glint in the old man’s eye, something almost familiar in his gaze. “I am Monk Gyasto. We,” he gestures to the four old men sitting around him, “act as the rulers of Yangchen. Our society is one of peace and acceptance, and we’d like to help you on your journey any way we can. Starting with,” he looks past the two of them and raises a wrinkled hand, beckoning for someone to come forward.

Zuko and Katara turn around and come face to face with a young man. He’s bald like the rest of the men in the town, has the signature bluish arrow tattoo on his head, and his eyes are big and slate grey, and glowing distinctly. The air rushes out of Zuko’s lungs, a strange sort of numbness born of his disbelief washing over his body.  _ Holy shit. _

“Wow!” The younger man’s voice holds a certain amount of child-like wonder, a massive smile taking up residence on his face. “You guys are Othered too! I’ve never met anyone like me before, this is so cool!” He rushes forward and pulls the two of them into a hug, his long arms easily wrapping them both in his embrace.

“Aang.” The monk’s voice is soft but stern, and the young man- Aang- lets them go with a sheepish look.

“Sorry, I just got a little excited,” he shrugs and looks Zuko in the eye, the glowing grey shining like polished metal. “I’m Aang!” He sticks his hand out towards Zuko with a wide smile.

“Zuko,” he still feels a little numb as he takes Aang’s hand, the younger man’s grip firm and soft at the same time.

“I’m Katara,” she shakes Aang’s hand with a smile.

“What are your gifts? Wait, I’ll show you mine first!” He makes a swinging motion with his hands and jumps into the air, twisting and coming to rest on… nothing?

“You can control air,” Katara’s voice holds no small amount of incredulity, and Zuko focuses on the space below Aang to see an almost invisible swirling beneath him.

“Damn,” he can’t help but be amazed as Aang bounds high up into the air, landing with unnatural grace in front of the two of them.

“Cool, right?” Zuko envies Aang’s unbriging; it’s clear that the monks of Yangchen had fostered and encouraged Aang’s gift, where Zuko and Katara’s were smothered and stifled. “What can you guys do?” Katara pulls a ribbon of water out of the skin at her hip, twirling it around herself with some simple movements of her hands. “Wow, that’s incredible! What about you, Zuko?” He brings his hand up and opens his fist, a plume of bright fire sitting comfortably in his palm. “Woah! That’s awesome! This is so great!” Aang is bouncing on his feet, his joy contagious as it draws a smile onto Zuko’s face.

“Aang,” Monk Gyatso speaks from his place on the floor, and the three of them turn back to look at him. “You will be travelling with Zuko and Katara from here on out. Your destiny awaits, little one,” Aang definitely isn’t little; he’s only about an inch shorter than Zuko, and looks to be at least a few years younger. He and Gyatso must have a more familial bond, the old man’s smile holding all of the affection Zuko is used to seeing in his uncle’s gaze.

“Really? That’s so exciting! I can’t wait to get going,” he turns back to Zuko and Katara. “But maybe we should wait until tomorrow. You guys look pretty tired.” Aang speaks his exhaustion into existence, the happenings of the last month and a half weighing on him so suddenly that he almost crumbles underneath it. “I’ll show you guys to somewhere you can rest, and I'll get any stuff we’ll need from the market.” They follow Aang out of the grand building and back out into the town. “Monk Gyatso told me about The Source years ago, and that there would come a day where I'd have to help save it. That’s why you guys are here, right?” They both nod silently. “Cool. Where are we headed to next?”

“Omashu,” Zuko’s jaw stretches open with a yawn. “But we don’t know how to get over the mountains.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Aang waves his hand over his shoulder at him. “There’s a tunnel about a two weeks walk from here that goes right through them.”

“Oh, okay,” Katara shrugs at Zuko, who yawns again. “Thanks for your help Aang. Zuko and I could definitely use a night in some real beds.”

“Yeah, no problem!” They enter a small building and walk down a few halls before coming to a room furnished with two simple beds. “I hope this is okay, we don’t have much in terms of guest rooms outside of the local inn.”

“This looks perfect, Aang,” Katara is all pleasantries, but Zuko skips the small talk and flops face first down onto one of the beds.

“There’s a washroom down the hall if you want to bathe, and we can have someone wash your clothes too,”

“Yes please,” Zuko is already peeling off his grimy shoes as he speaks. “Which way is the washroom?” Aang points down the hallway to the left.

“Just leave your clothes outside and I'll have someone grab them. Oh, and I’ll make sure to leave something clean for you to wear. That’s important.” Zuko waves over his shoulder at Aang and Katara and pads down to the washroom, thanking his lucky stars that he has access to a proper bath.

He peels off his grungy clothes and piles them in a heap where Aang had instructed him to before drawing a bath and sinking into the washtub, his aching muscles relishing in the soothing hot water. There are bottles of what looks like scented bath oils lined up on a shelf in arm’s reach, and on a whim he grabs the one labelled with the character for apples on it and adds some to the steaming water. There’s also a handful of different scented soaps, and he’s glad to see that one is labelled as cinnamon. His mother had bathed him and Azula with cinnamon scented soap ever since he was little, and the smell has always been a comfort for him.

He soaks in the wash tub until his fingers and toes wrinkle like prunes, finding a modest set of rust colored clothes outside of the room. He’s just pulling on his shirt as he walks back into the room designated for him and Katara, realizing after he’s pulled it over his head that Katara is already there.

“Washroom’s free.” She’s rifling around in her bag, but it doesn’t actually seem like she’s looking for anything.

“Oh, good. I’m gonna,” she gestures over her shoulder with her thumb, and Zuko nods. “Did you- you smell like apple pie.”

“Oh, yeah,” he turns to go through his own bag, now, to hide his blush. “They have scented bath oils and stuff.”

“It’s nice.” by the time he turns around to look at her, Katara is already gone without a trace.

He drifts off while she’s gone, barely waking up when she comes back into the room some unknown amount of time later. She lays down on the other bed with a heavy sigh; the scent of plums and bergamot waft over to him, and her hair looks even softer than usual, gentle curls haloing out around her head on the pillow. He rolls over onto his stomach and peeks out at her on the other bed. Her eyes are closed, chest rising and falling evenly as she drifts off, and Zuko closes his eyes, biting back all of the different words for beautiful that threaten to spill from his lips.

Xx

Dawn the next morning is crisp and breezy, the mountainous village of Yangchen bathing in the warm orange light from the sunrise as it creeps over the peaks to the east. The three Othered stand rested and ready at the edge of town with a plan to travel south towards the tunnel through the mountain range. Aang gives Monk Gyatso one last embrace before they head out, and the air grows heavy and familiar the longer they walk as they descend back to sea level.

“Wow, the air is so different down here,” Aang declares while spinning a bright green marble around in the air above his hand.

“Oh, you’ve never left Yangchen, have you?” Katara adjusts her pack on her shoulders as they walk, poking her head around Zuko to talk to Aang.

“Nope!” Zuko knows Aang isn’t that much younger than him, but it doesn’t change the fact that it  _ feels  _ like he is.

“The air pressure increases as you get closer to sea level,” he explains to Aang, who looks at him steadily with those luminous grey eyes. “So it’ll feel heavier down here.”

“That’s pretty cool. I’ll have to practice more to get the hang of it.”

“I’m assuming since you’re a monk that you’ve never tried to hone your element for combat, right?” Aang looks at him with a stricken face.

“No, we’re pacifists. We don’t even eat meat.”

Zuko decies to stay quiet for now, exchanging a look with Katara to pass along the message. He doesn’t want to get into a fight their first day together.

“So, about that tunnel,” Katara picks the conversation back up, thankfully changing the subject. “Where exactly is it?”

“Well,” Aang pulls out and unfurls his map. “It’s supposed to be right around here.”

“Supposed to be?” Zuko’s eyebrow raises as he looks at Aang. “What do you mean ‘supposed to be’?”

“I mean, I don’t actually know anyone who's gone through it, but I hear travelers talking about it a lot.”

“So there’s a chance it’s not there?” Katara’s voice is tinged with doubt.

“No! I mean,” Aang rubs the back of his neck, “maybe. I’m sure it’s real though, otherwise why would so many people talk about it?”

“Wait, you don’t even know if it’s real?!”  _ We should have put an age requirement on this trip. _

“It’s totally real! You’ll see,” Aang flashes Zuko another brilliant smile, and he lets out a groan as they continue down the worn dirt road towards their questionable route through the mountains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a tunnel, you say? 👀 Aang has officially joined the party! the next chapter will be up on Friday, and let me tell you guys... it's a doozy 😶 thanks for reading!


	8. The Lovers

“Are you sure we’re going the right way? I thought the tunnel was supposed to be around here,” Zuko indicates a point on the map that they are well beyond now.

“Well, I don’t know  _ exactly _ where it is,” both men’s eyes roll for vastly different reasons, and Katara looks upon the scene they make with her brows raised. “But if we keep walking, we should be able to find it.”

“But if it’s behind us, and we keep walking, how are we going to find it?” She can hear the frustration leaking into Zuko’s tone despite his best efforts to hold it back.

“Guys,” she gently takes the map away from them and rolls it up. “Let’s just chill for a minute and cool off. We have to practice anyway.” They had been trying to get Aang to agree to adapt his elemental control to a more combative style, but the monk wasn’t cooperating as much as they would have hoped.

“I told you both already, I’m not going to fight anyone.” She almost feels bad looking into his shining grey eyes and seeing the frustration in them. “I’m a monk, we don’t fight.”

“But what if you have to? People out here don’t treat Othered as well as the people in Yangchen do, Aang. You have to be ready!” Zuko is almost pleading with him at this point. Aang has never left the safe haven of the mountain town before now, and as much as Katara is glad that he grew up being accepted, that comfort is blinding him to the dangers of the real world.

“I’m sure more people than you realize can be reasoned with,” Aang crosses his arms and stands his ground; his naivete runs almost as deep as his stubborn attitude.

“Listen, no offense Aang,” Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. “But I’ve been travelling the world for the past three years. I think I know a little bit more about what we’re likely to run into while we’re out here than you do. If we could just-”

Zuko is interrupted by the sounds of something crashing through the trees to the right of the path, and the three Othered turn towards the noise to see two men emerge from the brush. 

“Look at what we have here!” The first man’s voice is scratchy, and as he speaks three more men materialize from the forest behind him.

“Three sets would fetch us a fortune!” A second man speaks, the sound oil slick and low while two more men come out to join the rest who are slowly converging on her, Zuko, and Aang.

“Three sets of what?” Aang is clearly confused as Katara and Zuko fall into firm stances beside him, ready to fight their way through the seven thugs arranging themselves into a circle around them.

“Our eyes,” the words pull like a growl from Zuko’s throat, and Katara feels Aang stiffen at her side.

“Guys, maybe we can work something out here,” Aang puts his hands up in a pleading position, and Katara’s heart sinks to her feet.

“Yeah, we kill you, scoop out your eyes, and get filthy rich when we sell them!” The answering man’s teeth are browned in spots, his smile crooked and lethal along with the other men’s laughter.

“Well, that’s not exactly what I was thinking, but-” Aang is cut off when one of the thugs throws a dagger straight at them, the metal glinting in the sunlight as it spins towards them faster than Katara can block it.

“Augh!” The dagger lands in Zuko’s shoulder with a sickening sound, and Katara draws her water out of it’s skin and smashes it into as many men as she can, the wave toppling them to the ground.

“Run!” Zuko grunts out between bared teeth, and Katara rushes forward to support him under her shoulder, blood already pooling on his shirt. The other men head towards them, faced warped with snarls and violent smiles, swords and knives bared and ready to fight.

“Aang!” The monk seems to break from a stupor at her words, and as he jostles the staff he’s been carrying, a fan springs out from the sides at the top end. He swings the staff in a sweeping motion, sending a powerful gust of air at the group of men, knocking them onto the ground and into the trees as they make their hasty escape.

A few of the thugs give chase, but Katara and Aang switch roles, him supporting Zuko while she ices their pursuers to the ground so that they can successfully get away. Katara is simultaneously shocked and unsurprised at how Zuko manages to continue on despite the knife protruding from his shoulder and the blood steadily soaking through his shirt in a dark splotch.

“We have to stop,” Katara huffs after what feels like hours. They veer off into the trees and Aang lays a paler than usual Zuko down against a thick trunk. “Aang, get me the first aid supplies out of the pack,” Katara rips Zuko’s shirt open to reveal the wound, eyes trained solely on his shoulder. “Hang in there, okay?”

“I’ve had worse.” Despite his assurances, Zuko’s breaths are a heavy staccato, his skin clammy and dull due to the considerable amount of blood loss.

“Here.” Aang hands her the first aid kit and she opens it up, surveying their supplies and devising a plan in her head.

“Okay, I have to take the dagger out. Aang, as soon as I take it out I need you to take this rag and apply steady pressure to staunch the bleeding.” Both men nod, and she grabs the hilt of the dagger. Her eyes lock with Zuko’s, glowing gold lined with tension, and he nods at her again before she pulls the dagger out in a swift motion.

Zuko barely muffles a pained grunt as the dagger slides out with a sickening wet sound. Aang quickly presses down on the wound and Zuko groans in pain, his teeth bared and chest heaving with labored breaths. Katara throws the dagger to the side and prepares the needle and thread to stitch up the wound before summoning a small amount of clean water to her hands.

“Aang, lift up so I can clean it,” the cloth is removed and Katara swoops in with her water, trying to ignore the hiss of pain that scrapes through Zuko’s teeth. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts.”

“I’m fine,” he definitely isn’t fine, but luckily it’s a clean wound that won’t be too difficult to stitch up.

“Aang, there’s a dark bottle in the first aid kit-” the bottle appears before she can even finish her sentence. “I have to use alcohol to clean it out properly.” Zuko nods, his eyes screwed shut against the pain. “Pour some on a rag,” she looks to Aang as she continues to swirl the water around Zuko’s wound, the younger man’s posture stiff with tension.

In the moment it takes for her to switch her water with the alcohol soaked rag, blood wells to the surface of the wound and spills over, trailing down Zuko’s chest in a thick rivulet. He groans again when she presses the rag to the deep gash, his other hand fisting in the dirt, knuckles white and veins pronounced. With gentle strokes she wipes at his injury to clean out any dirt that had come from the knife or had rubbed off from his shirt when they ran. 

“Almost done,” she hands the blood stained rag to Aang and reaches for the needle and thread. “I’m going to stitch it up now, okay?” She wastes no time before plunging the curved needle into Zuko’s skin.

“Any chance I can drink some of that alcohol?” His joke falls as flat as his tone, drained of energy and any humor. The adrenaline wears off as Katara stitches his shoulder up, worry rising in her throat like bile that she has to keep swallowing back. She thanks whatever spirits are watching over them that the attack hadn’t been fatal; she hasn’t known Zuko very long, but he’s made a home in her heart, created a nest out of her emotions and curled up in their warmth. What would she have done if he hadn’t made it? Would she and Aang continue on the mission? Would she go back home alone, back to her empty life stuck in a place where she didn’t truly belong? Would she-

“Hey,” his voice is a gentle rasp in her ear, and she lifts her head to look into his eyes. The affection in the glowing gold melts the icy fear around her heart, the water manifesting as unshed tears that she tries desperately to blink back. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong _? _ ”  _ He really doesn’t know. _ She’s not sure how he hasn’t realized how deep her feelings for him run, how he doesn’t know that his smile is branded onto the backs of her eyelids, that his glowing sunrise eyes greeting her every morning is her favorite part of the day. “I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

“It’s gonna take a lot more than a bunch of ugly punks to take me out.” Her laugh is watery and fragile, and she wants to kiss that tired lopsided smile right off of his face.

“You’re gonna have to get good at using your left arm for a while.” She’s finally finished sewing him up, and is fashioning a sling for his arm out of the parts of his shirt that aren’t permanently stained with blood. “If you pop the stitches I’m going to be mad at you.”

“Good thing we got that extra set of clothes in Yangchen. Can I, uh, have a shirt, maybe?” 

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she has no doubt that her cheeks are a bright crimson as she goes through his bag to find him a shirt. It’s not that she had gotten distracted by his toned, pale chest. She had just forgotten about his shirt after she had cleaned the blood off of him. Yeah, that’s totally it.  _ God help me. _

She helps him into the rusty colored shirt that had been gifted to them in Yangchen, dutifully ignoring the heat spreading far from her cheeks from the intimacy of the gesture, and rewraps the sling around his arm. In the awkward silence that follows, she realizes that she hasn’t heard a peep from Aang the whole time she’s been working on Zuko, a stark contrast to his usual peppiness.

“Aang?” She turns around to find him leaned up against a different tree, his knees pulled into his chest and arms resting on top of them. A guilty look is painted onto his face, his shining grey eyes hooded and sad. “Are you alright?”

“This is all my fault,” he still won’t look at Katara and Zuko, his eyes trained on something intangible off in the distance.

“Aang-”

“No,” Aang interrupts Zuko before he can console the younger man. “It is. If I hadn’t tried to talk to them, they wouldn't have attacked you.”

“You don’t know that,” Zuko tries to console him. As much as they butt heads sometimes, she knows that Zuko really cares about Aang.

“It doesn’t matter,” steel grey eyes finally meet gold and blue. “Monk Gyatso always told me I had a problem with running away from things. If I had just accepted the responsibility that this quest requires of me, we wouldn’t have been left so vulnerable.” Katara’s face falls with sympathy, unsure of what to do or say to soothe Aang’s guilt. “I can’t run away from my destiny any more. And if that means learning how to fight,” he looks right at Zuko, “to protect the people I care about, then so be it.” He gets up and walks over, sitting down again on Zuko’s left side. “I’m sorry Zuko.”

“It’s alright Aang,” Zuko puts his hand on Aang’s shoulder, who lets his head fall onto Zuko’s shoulder in turn. Zuko looks at Katara with confusion in his eyes; her insides warm with the open show of affection between the two men, and her smile grows as Zuko unconfidently moves his arm to wrap around Aang’s shoulders. She misses her family more with each passing day, but she feels like she has a new family growing right here in the shade of a towering tree.

Xx

The next day they set off again, deciding that it might be a good idea to backtrack just a little to see if they missed the probably-real tunnel. Katara and Aang had done their best to split Zuko’s belongings into their bags, but he’s still left carrying a few things in the pack that’s slung over his uninjured shoulder. The sun is high and the sky is bright, the balmy air of late spring blanketing the world in it’s warmth. They’re careful to listen for other people, knowing that with Zuko’s injury they won't be able to fight and will have to resort to running if they’re attacked again. 

“Do you guys hear that?” Zuko stops them in their tracks, and Katara strains her ears.

“Is it… music?” Aang and Zuko look at each other, confusion mirrored on their faces as Katara starts to hear the faint sound of music too. “Do you think it’s a travelling band or something?”

“Travelling bands exist?” She knows that she’s been sheltered, but a travelling band sounds like something you’d read about in a story book, not something you’d actually run into out on the road.

“It doesn’t sound like they’re very good,” Zuko’s grumble rises over the growing noise of the band, the distinct sound of a lute and an out of tune voice emanating from somewhere beyond the trees.

“What do we do?” The three of them turn to look at each other at Aang’s question, trepidation and resignation mixing on their faces. “I mean, if they have instruments and stuff, they’re probably not violent. Maybe we can ask if they know where the tunnel is?”

“If they do turn out to be aggressive, at least with instruments they’ll be less likely to run after us,” Katara shrugs her shoulders, turning her questioning gaze upon Zuko.

“I guess we can ask. It doesn’t really seem like we have a choice at this point.” They all turn to the forest as a man and woman emerge. The man carries a lute and the woman a tambourine, and two others holding more instruments stumble out of the forest after them.

“Oh, hey there,” the man with the lute’s voice is a little slurred, but none of them seem to be holding bottles. “Are you all travellers too?”

“Yeah,” Aang steps forward a little bit. “We’re trying to find the tunnel that goes through the mountains. We need to get to Omashu.”

“Oh, we know where the tunnel is!” The man nods, a dopey smile sliding onto his face.

“Chong, look,” the woman points at the three of them, her voice dreamy and steeped in wonder. “Their eyes.”

“Ohh, you’re Othered, huh?” His reaction is not at all what Katara was expecting; the man looks more intrigued than anything. “I’m Chong, and this is my beautiful wife, Lily,” the same dopey smile returns on his face as he looks at the woman behind him.

“You said you know where the tunnel is,” Zuko keeps his voice even, even though she can tell by his face that he’s confused by the group’s reaction to the three Othered as well. “Can you tell us where it is?”

“Oh, we’ll do you one better than that! We’ll take you there ourselves!” Chong moves forward and slings his arm around Aang, forcing him to crouch as the strange nomad leads his lanky, bent over form down the path without so much as a second thought. “We’re heading to that side of the mountains too; we can travel together!” She turns to look at Zuko, shrugging her shoulders in defeat as they follow after the musical group. 

The group explains that they’re nomads, travelling through the countryside and playing music wherever they please. They’re led along the path back towards Yangchen, confirming Zuko’s suspicions that they had missed the tunnel on their first journey through. The group bursts into an awful (yet somehow catchy) song about said tunnel, outlining the myth that surrounds it.

“So, is this tunnel real or a legend?” She can’t help but feel skeptical of the nomads, even after their quirky song.

“Oh, it’s a real legend, alright!” Aang turns around from where Chong still holds him hostage under his arm, a sheepish smile pulled across his face. Zuko groans and pinches the bridge of his nose as a headache starts to form behind Katara’s eyes. 

Soon they turn off the main road and onto a smaller path, one half concealed by branches and overgrown bushes.  _ That explains why we didn’t see it before. _ They walk for a short time, Katara trying to block out as much of the nomad’s persistent blathering as she can, before coming upon the entrance to a large cave.

“Well, here we are!” Chong throws his hands in the air excitedly, and Aang walks up to the entrance to read some characters etched into the stone.

“What does this say? Something about a curse?”

“Great, just what we need,” Zuko grumbles next to Katara. If Zuko’s eyes keep rolling like that, she’s sure that they’re bound to get stuck in the back of his head.

“Oh, the lovers that built the cave cursed it so that the only way you can get through is to trust in love. Otherwise you’ll get lost in the labyrinth.” 

“And die,” Lily chimes in unhelpfully.

“Wait, labyrinth? You said it was a tunnel!” Zuko’s frustration is starting to show, and Katara doesn’t really blame him.

“Well, it’s both!” Chong sounds much too relaxed about the whole thing. “Don’t worry, with our combined brainpower, I’m sure we’ll be fine!” He ambles on towards the cave, leaving a confused and slouching Zuko behind him.

Without having much choice, Katara, Zuko, and Aang follow the nomads into the tunnel, the temperature dropping significantly as they continue on. Zuko lights a small plume of flame in his palm, which the nomads “ooh” and “ahh” at. He looks absolutely miserable, and Katara has to stifle a laugh at his expense. They travel through the cave for what feels like a while, eventually lighting a torch so that Zuko doesn’t have to lose more energy by feeding his fire.

“Do you have a map or something? How do we know if we’re going the right way?” Aang turns to the nomads, asking a question that she realizes they probably should have asked much sooner.

“We don’t need a map! We just have to trust in love!” Chong pulls Lily into his shoulder and plants a sloppy kiss on her head.

“What does that even mean?!” Zuko is clearly at the end of his rope, and his voice echoes through the tunnel. 

“Wait, what’s that noise?” A sound almost like water catches Katara’s attention and she listens intently, trying to decipher the origin.  _ It’s not water… _ “It’s wings.” She turns to look at Aang and Zuko, both of their eyes wide and glowing in the darkness of the cave as the noise gets louder.

Suddenly, a swarm of bats flood towards them from the other end of the tunnel, darkening the area even more so than before. A rumbling sound joins the chaos of the bat’s shrieks and the group’s shouts, and Zuko has to pull Katara out of the way as part of the roof crashes to the ground. The dust clears, leaving the two of them coughing and dirty, and cut off from the rest of the group.

“Aang!” Katara runs back up to the rubble, unable to move the giant boulders that have come down between them.

“I’m alright!” She lets out a breath at his words. “But we can’t move these boulders. What should we do?”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Zuko mumbles behind her, a flame once again nestled in his palm.

“Just… keep going. There’s a path on this side too, we’ll meet up with you.”

“Are you sure?” Aang’s voice is tinted with fear, and Katara is feeling her fair share of it as she tries to console him.

“We don’t really have any other options. We’ll be fine, just focus on getting out of the tunnel.” Silence befalls her and Zuko as the air grows stuffy around them.

“Let’s go,” Zuko’s warm voice pulls her from her anxious thoughts, and they head down the only path available to them.

She doesn’t know how long they walk for, but it can’t be more than an hour before the tunnel spits them out in a massive cavern. The ceilings are incredibly high, and there’s art drawn along the walls leading up to a huge carving on the far side. Zuko shoots his fire out to the handful of sconces around the large space, throwing light onto the artwork and illuminating a huge relief of a man and woman, kneeling across from each other while sharing a kiss.

“What is this place?” She’s mystified by the huge room, immediately going over to inspect the drawings on the walls.

“It’s a tomb,” Zuko’s voice is low and rumbling behind her as he walks towards the large back wall. “These must be the two lovers Chong was singing about.”

“These pictures tell a story,” she walks around the room, reading the characters under each drawing. “They met on top of a mountain that divided their two villages. The villages were enemies, so they couldn’t be together, but their love was strong and they found a way. The two lovers were gifted by The Source, each able to manipulate the earth so that they could see each other. They built elaborate tunnels so that they could meet in secret; anyone that tried to follow would be lost in the labyrinth. But one day the man didn’t come- he’d died in the war between the two villages. Devastated, the woman unleashed a powerful display of her gift, strong enough to destroy them all. But instead of wreaking havoc, she declared the war over. Both villages helped build a new city where they would live together in peace. The woman’s name was “Oma,” and the man's name was “Shu.” The great city was named Omashu as a monument to their love.” The end of the story places her in front of the large effigy next to Zuko.

“Love is brightest in the dark,” Zuko reads the characters carved between the two lovers. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not sure.” They poke around the tomb for a while before moving on, exiting through another tunnel leading off from the other side of the cavern. 

Katara is sure that it’s been hours since they entered the tunnel, and they haven’t seen any signs of a way out. Zuko’s fire is growing dimmer in his hand, and he looks exhausted, his already low energy being sapped by the flame in his palm.

“How are we going to get out of here?” She hates to hear the defeat in his voice, the sound foreign and worrisome. She thinks back to the images in the tomb, the huge relief of the two lovers kissing on the wall…

“I might have an idea,” her cheeks are burning even thinking about it, but this is their last resort.

“I’ll try anything at this point.” They stop walking and turn towards each other, Katara having to tilt her chin up to look into Zuko’s eyes.

“It’s probably dumb, but…” she wrings her hands together if front of her, unable to look into his eyes as the words come out of her mouth. “What if we kissed?” The silence following her question makes her look up at Zuko, who’s face might be comical if it wasn’t for the circumstances.

“You…” his gold eyes are wide, disbelief clear in his features.

“I mean, because of the story, you know? And the big people…” her blood is boiling under her cheeks, the heat spreading down her neck and up to her ears. “It’s a stupid idea, nevermind.”

“It’s not stupid,” his voice is so soft that she doesn’t think she would have heard it if he wasn’t standing right in front of her. Her heart beats like a rabid animal in her chest, so fast she’ll be surprised if she doesn’t have bruises later.

“Oh.” She wasn’t expecting him to agree, and his willingness throws her through a loop. “Okay,” she’s breathless, the small tunnel closing in on her as she braves looking up into Zuko’s eyes. His cheeks are rosy just like hers, the dying light of his fire exposing them both.

The silence in the tunnel is stifling, the foot of space between their bodies seeming to expand and shrink with every breath she takes. She clears her throat awkwardly, trying not to notice the incessant pull she feels towards Zuko dragging her in, her muscles begging her to succumb to the undertow and let herself drown in him. The space between them has definitely shrunk, and when she tilts her face up to look at him, he’s much closer than she thought he would be. She stares into the gold of his eyes, the glow bright and sunny in the dark tunnel. She licks her lips and watches as his eyes flash down to follow the movement, and musters up every ounce of courage she has before bringing her hand up to cup his face and pulling it down to meet hers. 

The flame in his palm winks out just before they touch, but the heat that courses through her body when she feels his lips on hers is enough to light up the darkest of spaces. Zuko’s lips are soft, softer than she had ever imagined them to be- and she’s definitely imagined this before. It’s barely a kiss, his lips feather light on hers, but nonetheless it leaves her yearning for more, feeling like she’s been parched for days and his lips are a much needed spring rain. The kiss is short, too short, and when he pulls back she gives in to her basest desires and presses her lips into his again. There’s more pressure behind it this time, and Zuko responds immediately, brushing his calloused thumb along her jawline and making her shiver. It’s the kiss she’s been dreaming about for weeks, and she doesn’t want to stop, not even if it means getting out of this stupid cave. It’s obviously more than what would be necessary to find their way out- if this was even the answer- but it seems like Zuko doesn’t care, and she  _ definitely  _ doesn’t care as their lips come together again and again and again. 

Her nerves are on fire, and to her dismay they eventually break apart, breaths hanging heavy in the infinitesimal space between their faces. She waits as long as she can before opening her eyes, trying to stretch this moment out for as long as possible before coming back to the world. The first thing she notices when she opens her eyes is the strange green glow around her, but she’s considerably distracted by Zuko’s kiss reddened lips and the soft blush tinting his cheeks. He opens his eyes, stunning gold staring into ocean blue, the heat in his gaze sending a fresh wave of something addicting and heady through her body.

“I think it worked,” she feels his jaw move under her hand when he speaks, his own still laid gently on her neck. She nods dumbly, willing her voice back as she tries to recover from what was the single best kiss of her entire life.

“Yeah.” She wants to tell him everything, to spill her guts all over the floor and just hope that he’s willing to mop them up, but a paralyzing fear stops her and forces her to pull her hand away from his face. They break apart, the air thick with awkward tension, and she looks up towards the green glow. A stripe of luminous green crystals line the roof of the tunnel, winding down along the path. “There’s crystals on the ceiling.” Zuko looks up, and she has to tear her eyes away from the smooth pale skin of his neck.

“Oh,” his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “I guess that’s the way out.” 

They stand in a painfully awkward silence for a moment more before following the crystals, quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop save for the sounds of their shoes hitting the stone floor. The walk is brutal, and Katara can’t even bear to look at Zuko.  _ What am I afraid of? He agreed to kiss me. That’s good, right? But what if he only agreed out of necessity? I really fucked things up, didn’t I? _

She internally beats herself up the whole way through the tunnel, and the sigh that escapes her when they finally see daylight lifts a hundred pounds off of her shoulders (there’s still another hundred on there, but she knows that weight isn’t going away for a long time).

“Hey! You guys made it!” Aang bounds forward and hugs them both. “We were starting to get worried. How did you get out?” Katara clears her throat and Zuko rubs the back of his neck, neither meeting each other’s eyes.

“We followed some glowing green crystals,” she manages to choke out the words, trying to stifle the hot blush that seems to be a permanent fixture on her cheeks. Aang raises a single brow, looking between the two of them before answering.

“Okay,” he draws out the word in a way that makes it clear that he knows something’s up, and Katara groans internally. 

They split from the nomads and camp for the night soon after, Katara crawling into her tent while Zuko and Aang retreat to the one they share. She wants to regret it, she really does. She hates the awkwardness that has dampened what had been an easy friendship with Zuko, but the memory of his lips on hers makes it hard for her to think about anything else. She lies awake on her bedroll for hours, unable to scrub the feeling of his thumb on her jaw or his cheek under her palm from her brain, and falls asleep hoping that she hasn’t ruined the only real friendship she’s ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all didn't think I'd give you a kiss this early and make it easy, did you? it is tagged as a slow burn, after all 😉 next update on Monday! thanks for reading!


	9. The King

“So, what happened with you and Katara?” Zuko and Aang are crammed into the significantly-too-small-for-two-grown-ass-adults tent, and the younger man’s words ring out in the night like a church bell. When Aang had first joined them Zuko had mourned the loss of his and Katara’s shared space, but the past few days have made him grateful for it. He doesn't think he'd be able to sleep so close to her when her kiss is a silent spectre, the feeling an ever present shadow on his lips.

“What do you mean?” Playing dumb is pointless, but he’d rather get stabbed again than have this talk right now.

“You guys have been acting super weird since we went through the tunnel. Clearly something happened in there.”

“Nothing happened,” he rolls away from Aang, hoping that he’ll drop it and forget about the whole thing just like Zuko is trying to do.

“That’s a bald-faced lie.” Zuko whips around at that, Aang’s frank words striking a nerve.

“Maybe I don’t want to talk about what happened,” he snaps. Zuko tries to reel in the vitriol coloring his words, but Aang throws his hands up in a mock surrender anyway.

“Hey, I’m not gonna force you to talk about it. I just think it might help to get it out, you know?” They both lay staring up at the roof of the tent, the moon and stars beyond offering no light through the dark canvas.

“We kissed.” He regrets the words as soon as they fall from his lips, but a small relief accompanies the embarrassment.

“That’s great!” He turns to Aang, whose face is bright and smiling, and raises his brow.

“What do you mean? If it was great I wouldn’t be terrified of even looking her in the eye.”

“Well, you wanted to kiss her, right?”

“Of course I did,” he pushes out a heavy breath. “I’ve been wanting to kiss her for weeks. But not… I don’t know, under those circumstances, I guess. What if she didn’t actually want to kiss me?”

“Did you ask?”

“I mean, technically it was her idea,” his answer is a barely audible mumble, and the blush on his cheeks flares, a raging fire under his skin.

“Wait,” Aang rolls over to face Zuko fully, propping himself up on his elbow. “You’re worried that she didn’t really want to kiss you, but she’s the one who brought it up?” Hearing Aang say it like that makes his anxiety feel small and insignificant, but still painfully present.

“Yes?” It comes out sounding more like a question than an answer. The two of them are silent for a beat before Aang speaks up.

“So, like, are you willfully blind or legally blind?” Zuko doesn’t think he’s ever heard such snark from the monk next to him. Aang's brows are raised so high on his head that they could almost touch his tattoo, and Zuko bristles at his friend’s attitude.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He can’t help the defensiveness he feels at Aang’s joke, and the younger man’s face softens.

“Zuko, if she was the one who initiated, that’s a pretty good indicator that she wanted to kiss you.” He says it like it’s so simple, like the memory of her soft skin doesn’t taunt him every waking moment (any many of his sleeping moments, too).

“But she thought we had to. She suggested it because we thought it would help us find a way out of the tunnel.” Aang’s face is one part confusion and one part disbelief. “Don’t ask. She only wanted to kiss me because she wanted to get out of the cave. Not that I blame her,” dejection leeches into his words, disappointment sour on his tongue.

“Well, was it just like, a little peck? Or was it a _kiss_ kiss?” Zuko groans when Aang waggles his eyebrows, the blood tinting his cheeks burning with a new intensity.

“It was a _kiss_ kiss.”

“Like-”

“Like we fucking made out in a dark cave and then walked out like nothing happened,” the words rush out of his mouth in a jumble. He pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and groans again. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Okay, let me ask you this,” Zuko peeks out from under his hand to look at Aang. “Does Katara seem like the kind of person who will do something she doesn’t want to unless it’s her only option?”

“Definitely not.” It’s not even a question for Zuko. Katara is so strong willed that he’d have a hard time convincing her to do anything she’s even slightly opposed to.

“Exactly. So why would she kiss you like that if she didn’t want to? You think it was out of necessity, but if it was, why wouldn’t she have just given you a little smooch and then called it a day?” He has to admit that Aang’s words make sense, but he just can’t believe that Katara would want him like that. _Who would?_

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal.” He rolls back over, putting his back to Aang and hiding the raging hope inside him that wants the younger man to be right.

“Okay,” Aang’s word is a sigh, and Zuko almost feels bad for frustrating him. “I know telling you to listen to your heart is cheesy, but it’s good advice. I think if you really try to hear it, you’ll find that it has a lot to say.” A shroud of silence pulls over them, and after a long time he finally finds sleep. Aang’s words follow Zuko into his dreams, conjuring vivid images of a life he desperately wishes he could live.

Xx

Even the simplest of things with Katara are awkward now. Sparring becomes something he looks forward to and dreads at the same time; on the one hand, it gives him an excuse to look at her, but on the other, it just reminds him of how easy things had been before. On the upside, Aang is adapting his element to be more suited for combat rather quickly, something that he knows grates on Katara’s nerves. It had taken them both a significant amount of time to hone their elements in such a way, but Aang’s proficiency is aided by the encouraging upbringing of the people of Yangchen. 

Aang is off somewhere else, a vague statement and a hasty exit leaving his whereabouts up to interpretation, leaving Zuko and Katara alone at the campfire. They sip their tea in silence under the stars, a once comfortable and friendly ritual now stilted and strange.

“I’m not mean for being frustrated, right?” Her words startle him to the point where he almost spills his tea. “He’s just… getting it so fast. We had to work so hard.” Katara had lashed out earlier at Aang, who had been being a little pompous about how quick he had picked up the new style of manipulating his air.

“He’s got an advantage that we didn’t,” the peppermint tea slides down his throat, hot and soothing, to calm his nerves. “He grew up able to practice and use his gift freely while we had to hide ours. He’s had all his life to get the hang of it.” He finally makes eye contact with her, the stark glow of her eyes sending lightning crackling through his bones.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The taste of normalcy has him yearning for more. He misses their easy conversations so much, longing a visceral ache in his chest.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he wants to reach out to her, to take her soft hand in his like he might have if things between them weren’t so messy. “You’ve come a long way in a short amount of time. You should be proud of yourself.” Her mouth tilts into a small smile and his heart leaps in his chest, a shy grin forming on his face to match Katara’s. The tension in the air lessons a tiny bit, and Zuko feels like he can breathe for the first time in a week.

Thankfully after that small exchange, the ice starts to melt between him and Katara, the smile he so loves to see shining on her face more often, the symphony of her laugh playing for him just like it used to. As the days wear on, it gets harder and harder for him to push his feelings back into the dark little box he tries to keep them locked in. He repeatedly has to tear his eyes away as they follow her around, tracing the sway of her hips and the swish of her hair, and if his eyes could literally turn into hearts, he knows that they would every time he looks at her. Katara makes him feel like lightning in a bottle, on edge and barely contained by some herculean act of self restraint. The worst part of it all, though, is that he’s never felt anything like this before; he’s not sure if he’s going insane or falling in love or if his brain has been taken over by some unholy creature hell bent on giving him a heart attack. But every time she looks at him, those glowing ocean eyes driving a stake through his heart with every blink, he knows he’d endure the worst this earth could throw at him just to stand by her side. _I’m so far gone, it’s a miracle that I'm not lost._

Xx

The grand city of Omashu looms before them, it’s pyramidal shape jutting up into the bright almost-summer sky, a dog ear on a page to the heavens. The three Othered stand before it, mouths open and luminous eyes wide as they try to take it all in. The city is gargantuan, definitely the biggest Zuko has seen since he’d left Ember so many years ago; the main pyramid towers over the other three smaller peaks, and the city itself is isolated by a vast canyon on all sides. The only way in is a long path with perilously steep drops on either side leading from the mainland to the huge city. Yangchen had been beautiful in it’s own right, but Omashu is something else entirely, the neatly packed buildings filling every inch of the city a far cry from the softly winding roads of Aang’s home. A huge wall surrounds the city, the monolithic gate imposing itself upon them as they approach it. Katara’s got her hat on to hide her eyes, and Zuko’s hood is pulled down over his head despite the warm air. Aang has pulled a section of his yellow robes over his head to act as a hood, and as silly as it looks, it’ll have to do.

“So your uncle said to just… walk in?” Aang doesn’t sound very confident, and Zuko hates to admit that the feeling is mutual.

“He said he knows the king personally and that he’s expecting us, so I guess we just walk in,” he makes eye contact with Aang over Katara’s head before shifting his gaze; he gains courage when he looks down to meet her glowing blue eyes and takes a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.” 

His steps are deceivingly sure as they head towards the gate. The road is crowded with people, merchants and farmers pulling their wares into and out of the impressive city. Luckily, all of the people seem too absorbed in their own lives to pay much attention to the motley crew walking among them. They get into a short line to get through the gate, and Zuko realizes that there are guards inspecting carts and asking people questions at the entrace. Fear runs ice cold through his veins, but he has to trust his uncle; he wouldn’t send them into danger. Katara takes his hand, slotting her trembling fingers into the spaces between his, melting the chill in his blood with a rushing wave of warmth. 

“I’ll talk to the guards,” he keeps his voice low as he speaks to Katara and Aang.

The merchant in front of them gets his cart checked, the guard picking up a head of cabbage and turning it around to inspect it from every angle. Zuko isn’t sure what could possibly be dangerous about a bunch of cabbage, but apparently the guards are being extremely thorough.

“Step up.” The guard sounds almost bored. Katara’s hand slides from his as they approach the uniformed man, Zuko’s hood pulled low over his eyes. “Business or pleasure?”

“We’re here to see the King.” The guards head snaps up from the clipboard he’s holding and Zuko reluctantly meets his eyes.

“Show me your eyes,” the guard speaks clearly to Katara and Aang, but luckily keeps his voice quiet enough to not make a scene. He nods his head, apparently approving of what he sees, and turns back to Zuko. “Wait on the other side of the wall. Be discreet. I’ll send someone to bring you up to see the King.”

The three of them let out a collective sigh as the guard waves the next group forward, and they enter the city of Omashu. It’s even more awe inspiring from the inside, with sturdy, attractive houses and storefronts laid out in a neat grid pattern. The buildings slope upwards, the long road up to the palace no doubt making for a brutal walk, but people are flooding the streets anyway. It almost reminds him of the market square in Katara’s little village, but on a much grander scale. He looks over at her to see her wide eyes and bright smile, unintentionally getting as lost in her features as she is in the scene before them.

“You’re here to see the King?” They all jump at the voice that comes from beside them. The man who it belongs to is somewhat short, definitely isn’t a guard, and is wearing a funny hat with a gaudy gold tassel hanging from the top.

Zuko swallows past his nerves. “Yes, we are.” The man requires no more explanation and waves them along behind him, eventually loading them into a carriage. 

Aang bounds up to sit next to the short man who cringes just the slightest bit at their proximity, leaving a rosy cheeked Zuko to sit on the other bench with Katara. The ride up to the palace is tense, not one word being uttered from any of the four occupants as the carriage makes its way up the steep slope of the main road. He tries to keep his eyes either out towards the city or aimed down towards his lap, but it’s much more difficult than he would have thought to not look at Katara while she’s sitting so close to him. Her aromatic soap is floral and light, the scent intoxicating and sending a fresh wave of shivers through him every time the balmy breeze ruffles her hair.

After a long and arduous (for Zuko, at least) journey up the main road, they finally reach the palace and mercifully exit the carriage. The short man leads them through the palace into the throne room, and Zuko has to clench his jaw to stay present, his hands fisted so tightly that his nails dig painfully into his palms and his knuckles turn white. _This isn’t Ember. This is a totally different city. I’m sure this King is nothing like-_

“Who do we have here?” They stand before the King, a hunched old man drowning in his opulent green robes with chunky jeweled rings on every finger. His voice is nasally and high pitched, and if Zuko’s being honest, he sounds like he’s old as dirt. 

“My name is Zuko, your majesty,” he tries to slow the savage heart beating out of control in his chest as he bows. “And this is Katara and Aang. My uncle Iroh said you’d be expecting us.” The old man’s eyes flash at his uncle’s name.

“Oh, so you’re Iroh’s nephew,” the King rises slowly from his throne and walks towards them after indicating for Zuko to rise. He gets right up in Zuko’s face before stopping; the King’s eyes are wide and untamed, and they give him the distinct feeling that the old man knows more than he should. “You look quite like your cousin, you know.” Zuko’s heart stutters, the comment catching him so off guard that he thinks he might fall over. _How well does this man know my uncle?_ “Iroh and I have been friends for a very long time.” _Can he read my mind?_ “I trust that you’re here looking for someone who can manipulate earth?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Aang steps forward and bows, his hands placed in front of him in a gesture Zuko has never seen before.

“Oh, just call me Bumi. Nobody’s called me ‘your majesty’ since my hair was brown instead of grey!” The King cackles at his lame joke, his snorting laughter echoing through the large throne room as the three Othered stand in silence. “In any case, you won’t find who you’re looking for here.” Zuko’s shoulders slump along with those of his companions. “But, I have heard of someone who is Othered that lives in Gaoling. Supposedly she has an elemental gift akin to all of yours.”

“Do you know her name or how we can find her?” Katara’s voice holds the hope of all three of them in its tone.

“Nope.” The fragile hope that had filled Zuko leaks out of him just as fast as it had come. “But for now, let’s get you some food and clothes. You all are stinking up my throne room!” King Bumi cackles again as Aang not-so-discreetly smells his own armpit, and they follow the eccentric King into the bowels of the palace.

Xx

After a hot bath and a new set of clothes- olive and forest green this time- Zuko’s anxieties have thankfully taken their leave and left him to relax. They are led as a group to a long, regal table in a large dining room, the settings made of shining metal, glinting in the bright light and bringing back bad memories that he has to quickly shove into the back of his mind. King Bumi sits at the head, and Aang takes a suspiciously long time sitting down so that Zuko ends up seated next to Katara. He knows Aang is doing some sly meddling and trying to push him and Katara together, and shoots the younger man a glare across the table. Aang puts on a convincing show of feigning innocence, his wide eyes and round face painting a perfect picture of naivete. The first course is served, the food rich and decadent and befitting of the royalty they share the table with.

“So,” Aang takes the opportunity of the silence in between courses to speak to the King. “Do you know where The Source is?”

“No,” the energy at the table drops significantly, “nobody knows exactly where it is, although plenty of people have speculated.”

“How are we supposed to figure out where it is, then?” He’s been trying to hold out hope for this journey, but their goal seems further out of reach than ever right now.

“There is a place where you could probably find some promising information about The Source, but I don’t know if it will tell you of its location.”

“Where?” Katara asks, and braces her elbows on the table. Zuko’s left eye twitches; he’d learned many years before not to rest his elbows on the table in a formal setting, and it still comes with a little shock that no attention is brought to it.

“The Si Wong Desert.” The King also rests his elbows on the table and steeples his jeweled fingers. “There’s rumors of a secret, sacred library hidden within the desert, one that’s supposedly blessed by the gods themselves.”

“A secret library?” _What kind of library needs to be kept a secret? How does a library even hide in a desert?_

“Yup!” The main course is placed in front of them, the smell of spice and meat filling the room. “You’ll have to cross through the desert to get to Ba Sing Se, so I’d say it’s worth doing a little… digging!” King Bumi cackles at his own joke, one that Zuko doesn’t quite understand, and by the looks on Aang and Katara’s faces, they don’t get it either. 

Their focus shifts quickly to the first hearty meal they’ve had since they left Yangchen, conversation slowing to a stop as they indulge. Zuko gorges himself on the amazing food, unsure when he’ll get another meal this substantial. He’d almost be embarrassed at the fervor in which he eats if Aang and Katara weren’t doing the exact same thing, and by the time the three Othered are done, they’re all showing slightly protruding stomachs and exhausted faces. King Bumi reads the room and has his staff bring out some peppermint tea, the steaming drink pooling in Zuko’s stomach and easing the tightness he feels there, and after a while they each retire to their own separate rooms.

Zuko hasn’t slept alone in two months, and despite the years he’s spent out on his own, the silence is stuffy and uncomfortable. He didn’t think he’d miss Aang’s gangly arms flailing onto him and waking him up in the middle of the night, and the realization that he does brings about a strange loneliness. Katara’s absence has been painfully present since they left Yangchen, but the familiarity of solitude doesn’t soften the sting in the slightest. The bed is soft and plush but much too large, and the opulent room serves only to make space for his demons to move in and get comfortable. 

After a solid hour of tossing and turning, he throws the blankets back with a frustrated growl and leaves the empty room behind him. He has no idea where he’s going, the long halls of the quirky King’s palace repetitive and unfamiliar as he pads through them. Silence accompanies him through the corridors, and he lets his feet guide him wherever they please, his direction determined by nothing but his subconscious. He feels like he shouldn’t be surprised, then, that his subconscious has led him out to a balcony overlooking the magnificent city where Katara is propped up on her arms against the railing. The itching in his feet makes him want to turn tail and run, but there’s a hook in his heart that drags him to her regardless of how deep he digs his heels in.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Her hair swings in a graceful arc when she turns to look at him, her eyes blue and bright against the backdrop of the dark city.

“Yeah.” He’s careful to leave a little space between them as he leans next to her, the few inches feeling like miles. “It’s a full moon.” He remembers Katara telling him that she has trouble sleeping when the moon is full, way back when they had first been travelling together. She must be thinking the same thing as they stare out at the scene before them. “It feels like we’ve been travelling for so long, but it’s only been two months.”

“All the days start to blend together after a point,” he fights to keep his voice even, thoughts of the memorable days surfacing unbidden in his mind. “Time isn’t real anyway.” She chuckles, her eyes lifting up to gaze at the bright moon.

“I never thought I’d leave my village,” Katara’s voice is far away, her eyes still trained on the moon while Zuko’s are stuck on her. “I was totally content with just staying in my little bubble for the rest of my life. I hadn’t even thought about what was down the one road that led out into the world,” she takes a deep breath and turns to meet his eyes, “until you came along.” It takes all his willpower to hold himself back from kissing her. His fingers twitch with the desire to brush an errant strand of hair off of her face, and he has to clench his hands together to stop himself from reaching out.

“I’m good at shaking things up.” Her laugh is quickly becoming his favorite sound, second only to his name passing smoothly through her lips. A reflexive smile grows on his face, and he has to turn away before he does something he regrets, biting his lip to force his mouth to stay shut against everything he wants to say to her.

He feels her gaze on him for a weighted moment before she, too, turns to look out at the sleeping city of Omashu. The moon is bright enough to cast shadows, its light bouncing off of the roofs of all the neatly arranged buildings, darkness filling the spaces inbetween to create a vivid contrast. It’s truly a beautiful sight, something Zuko has never seen anything like in his years of travelling, but it’s dull as dirt compared to the woman standing next to him. He has to actively fight against himself any time he’s close to her, the desire he has to feel her soft hair between his fingers powerful and demanding. The memory of her lips will never be enough, he knows that now, and he wishes more than anything that he could kiss her until he memorizes exactly how it feels. _God, I sound like such a creep._

“I’m going to head in,” Katara breaks the silence they had lapsed into, one that had felt comfortably long but far too short at the same time. 

“Sure,” he hopes that he’s successfully disguised the disillusionment in his voice with a cool indifference.

“Goodnight Zuko.” He turns around entirely to watch her go, the woman he’s falling head over heels for disappearing into the halls of the palace.

“Goodnight, Katara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko: the human equivalent of the heart eyes emoji. I picture the King's assistant to be wearing a hat similar to Chi-Fu from Mulan, but with an added tassel to ~spice it up~. Things pick up again next chapter, and then the real fun begins 😜 thanks for reading! next update on Wednesday!


	10. The Swamp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright friends, this chapter gets pretty intense near the end. this is where that "descriptions of abuse" tag comes into play. there's mentions of violence and blood, so tread carefully if this is triggering to you.

  
  


The trek south to Gaoling leads to an increase in heat and humidity, something that Zuko is used to but doesn’t necessarily enjoy. His shirt sticks to his skin no matter how often Katara pulls the sweat away, but his pale complexion will crisp up like bacon if he takes it off. Cicadas drone in the trees around the path that will lead them to the affluent city, their cacophonous sound exacerbating Zuko’s increasing headache. He’s tired and hot and would do anything to take a break in a cold river, but they must press on if they want to get to Gaoling within a reasonable amount of time. The journey from Omashu to Gaoling should take about a month; the thought of two more weeks of the incessant summer sun and stifling humidity makes him want to lie down in the dirt and—

“What’s that?” Katara’s voice crackles with disuse, the heat too oppressive for them to engage in much conversation. She’s pointing off to the distance where a grouping of trees has just come into view. 

“It looks like a forest.” Aang sounds relaxed, but something about the forest niggles at the back of Zuko’s mind. He pulls his pack around and rummages through it looking for the map.

“It’s not on the map.”

“What?” Aang and Katara crowd in around him, the moist air making their skin sticky where it touches his.

“There’s no forest or anything like that on the map.” Zuko retraces their path from Omashu with his finger. “We’re on the right road, but…” The three of them look back up at the trees and a ghostly chill slithers down Zuko’s spine.

“Well, we don’t really have a choice but to keep going, right?” As much as he hates to admit it, Aang is right. The three Othered share a look, and Aang shrugs his shoulders in a feigned nonchalance. “If we’re on the right road, it should lead right through and we’ll be fine.”

Without any other options, they continue on, the trees ahead growing thicker and larger, eventually spanning a massive distance in either direction.

“There’s no way in hell that something this big wouldn’t be marked on the map.” Something about the trees gives Zuko a bad feeling, and the heat on his skin turns cold.

“There’s something really creepy about it,” Katara says and looks up at him, wide blue eyes hesitant and worried. “I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it.”

“I feel it too.” Aang’s mouth is a hard slash across his face. “But we don’t have a choice. We have to go through, it’s way too big to walk around.”

The trio steel themselves as they approach the forest, an earthy smell carried on the wet air wafting over them. When they first pass through the trees, the forest seems normal enough, but the further they go, the thicker the canopy gets, and the wetter the ground becomes. Soon, he realizes why the terrain is changing so rapidly.

“I think it’s a swamp.” Zuko’s nose itches as the earthy smell turns sour, and mud squelches under their feet with every step. The road is disintegrating before them, what before had been easily identifiable dirt now barely a broken path. “And we’re losing the road.”

“Maybe we should turn around.” Katara turns back towards where they had come from and stops abruptly. “Guys, where’s the road?”

“What? We’re walking on it—” Zuko and Aang turn around as well, and his heart sinks as he realizes that the dirt path they had been following is completely gone, thick foliage grown over where they had just come from. “Wait, what? We just came through there!”

“We stayed on the path the whole time...” Aang’s voice is small, the group’s confusion exemplified in his tone. “It can’t just be gone.”

“Well clearly it is gone.” He can hear the anxiety creeping into Katara’s voice, and lays a comforting hand between her shoulder blades. “What is this place?”

He tries to keep his voice calm and hide his own trepidation. “I don’t know.” A worried look is shared between the three of them, and Katara grips her elbows as a visible chill runs through her. “Let’s just keep going.”

The path in front of them diminishes to almost nothing over the course of a few hours, flora spilling over before them at every step. Vines and brush cover the places where they had just stepped moments before, the strange swamp covering their tracks as they move towards its innards. The dying light of the sun coaxes all kinds of bugs out into the air, their buzzing incessant in his ears no matter how much he tries to bat the damn things away. Darkness descends upon them quickly, strange noises made by unknown creatures prompting them to stop for the night. Katara does her best to draw as much water as she can out of the branches they use for the fire, but Zuko still has to keep an eye on it as it crackles and smokes excessively to make sure it doesn’t die out.

Eventually they lay down to sleep, the three of them staying close to one another to ward off the creepiness of the swamp. Zuko would be happier about sleeping next to Katara again if it weren’t for the cold anxiety that weaves its way through his body, and he makes sure to keep his scabbard slung over his shoulder. It feels like he’s just fallen asleep when he jerks awake, the distinct feeling of  _ wrongness _ shivering through him before he’s gripped tightly by something around his ankle and yanked forcefully into the trees. He sees Aang and Katara come to the same fate and get dragged off into separate directions before his vision is clouded with twigs and ferns and mud. He scrabbles at the thick roots that protrude from the wet ground to no avail, every handhold slipping through his fingers before he can get a firm grip. Muddy, smelly swamp water soaks through his shirt, underbrush scraping his arms and face as he’s continually pulled through the swamp until he stops abruptly. He raises up on his elbows, panting and confused at where he is and what he’s supposed to do now.  _ What the fuck just happened? _

Slowly he gets to his feet, his body sore and probably bruising from his violent journey along the swamp floor, and tries to assess his situation. His clothes and hair are disgusting, dirt and mud and leaves sticking to every part of him, the smell so strong that he almost gags, and he does his best to peel or brush off what he can as he walks. Without any sense of direction, he walks a random path that he hopes will lead him back to Aang and Katara. Every part of the swamp that he passes through looks exactly the same as the last, and he can feel tendrils of panic crawling up his legs as he is forced to continue. 

Some time later he comes upon an area that’s a little clearer than the rest, the ground a little drier and more even, enough space in the canopy allowing the moon to shine down and dapple the space in soft light. His feet are sore and his head is pounding, and just as he’s about to sit down the air before him shimmers. Stunned, he rubs his eyes, chalking the strange phenomenon up to dehydration and lack of sleep until it happens again. Something begins to take shape in front of him, and his feet stumble backwards of their own accord as a strange mist coalesces into the shape of a person. The person— a woman— turns around to face him, and his heart almost stops in his chest, his blood running cold at the familiar face.

“Zuko...” the apparition’s voice rings out, ethereal and fading at the edges. “What happened?” Her voice is just like he remembers, concern and love drenching her tone as she bends down onto one knee, reaching out to something he can’t see.

“Mom?” He sounds like a child again, his voice breaking as tears gather in his good eye.

“Oh, my love, it’s alright.” The ghost of his mother pulls something invisible to her, cradling it to her chest. “Your father doesn’t hate you, he just... gets angry sometimes.” He sees bruises around her wrists when her flowing robe falls back, marks he had missed when he was a child and had been more focused on his own pain. “Don’t say that Zuko.” She rests her head on what he has to assume is his invisible form, her eyes full of pain and dread. “You’ll get it some day, I know you will. Where’s your sister?” His heart lurches in his chest at the thought of Azula, still stuck at home with their tyrant of a father, still enduring his abuse in Zuko’s place. “Let’s go find her, okay? We can all go sit in the garden for a while.” She stands up from her place on the ground, reaching down to take his younger self’s hand with a soft smile, and turns her head up to look directly into his eyes.

“Mom...” The tears make tracks in the dirt on his face and a pathetic sob rips from his throat as his mother approaches him. 

For a wild moment he thinks she might embrace him, that he’ll get to feel her hold him like she had all those years ago, but she walks right up to him and into him before evaporating into the night air. He grips his hair in tight fists, clenching his teeth against the sorrow rising like waves in his gut, breath a sharp staccato as it heaves from his chest. The violence of the reaction his mother’s ghost has pulled from him is startling, and he has to swallow the bile that claws at the back of his throat around gasping breaths. The world spins around him, a different kind of buzzing in his ears and panic gripping his heart like a vice, and at a loss for what to do he begins to walk again, quickly breaking into a dead sprint. 

He pushes himself to keep going even when his lungs burn, trying desperately to outrun his nightmares, to leave the sharp edges of his memories as far back in the swamp as he can. The grime that had clung to his face after he had been ripped from his slumber into this godforsaken hellscape of a swamp smears as he wipes roughly at the tears still falling from his undamaged eye. Eventually he stops, having no choice but to catch his breath before he passes out. The memory of his mother is visceral and stinging; he hasn’t seen her since the day they set her funeral pyre alight, the image seared into his mind at the tender age of ten. He remembers clutching Azula’s shaking hand tightly in his own, his father’s dead eyes flashing with the light from the flames. The evocation of hanging up his white mourning clothes, knowing that things were about to get so much worse and that there was nothing he could do to stop it, is as vivid in his mind today as it was the day it happened more than sixteen years ago.

A rustling in the brush to his side snaps him out of his thoughts, and just as he spins to face the noise a flash of blue and yellow slams into him, knocking him bodily to the ground and pushing all the air from his lungs. 

“Oh, Zuko!” Aang’s voice rings clearly in the small amount of light that the presumably rising sun throws into the swamp, and his breath rushes back to him in a gasp as the younger man and Katara disentangle themselves from him.

“What happened?” he asks after he catches his breath, and Aang clasps his hand and hauls him up off the ground. “Are you guys okay?” The younger man doesn’t answer, instead pulling Zuko and Katara into a crushing hug.

“Where were you guys? I was looking everywhere for you!” Katara’s voice is high and nervous, and Zuko swears that her glowing eyes are rimmed with pink and that her face is rosier than usual.  _ Was she crying? _

“I don’t know where I was.” It’s the truth even if it feels like a lie when he says it. Katara looks into his eyes, and he knows she sees the same evidence of distress as clearly on his face as it is on hers.

“I was following a girl.” Both of their heads snap to look at Aang, who’s rubbing the back of his face and looking sheepish.

“A girl? What girl?” He’s simultaneously glad that Aang hadn’t had a painful vision like him and jealous that the monk escaped the harrowing experience he (and by the looks of it, Katara) had.

“I don’t know. I didn’t know her.” The three of them stand in silence for a minute, confused and tired, before more rustling startles them. 

Zuko drops into a defensive stance, the others mirroring him right before a mess of vines shoot out towards them. His fire isn’t very effective in the humidity, and he thanks his lucky stars that he’d kept his dao strapped to his back even as he slept as he pulls them out of their sheath. Katara is at the advantage with plenty of water at her disposal to send in sharp discs towards the vines, and she slices through them like butter. Aang is effective in using his air to blast the vines back, giving Zuko time to hack at them with his swords, but the vines keep coming, and he’s feeling the exhaustion numb his arms when the vines suddenly stop.

“Wait!” A disembodied voice comes from deeper in the swamp, and the trio stand at the ready, anxious for whoever will appear from the brush. It turns out, however, that the man that steps forward doesn’t look like much of a threat; he’s portly and clad in nothing but a dingy loin cloth, and has his hands up as he approaches them. But his most startling feature is the soft glow of his hazel eyes.

“You’re Othered!” Aang’s breathless voice prompts the three of them to stand down, and the man comes closer.

“I didn’t know you guys were like me. Sorry I attacked you like that; we’re not used to seein’ outsiders in the swamp.”

“That was you? With the vines?” Zuko asks, and the man nods.

“Yep. My gift lets me control the vines and plants. The name’s Huu!” He smiles, showing off a few gaps in his mouth where teeth should be. “Y’all are a strange bunch. You don’t look nothin’ alike.”

“We’re all from different places.” Katara takes the lead to explain their situation. “We’re looking for The Source.”

“The Source, huh?” Huu rubs his short beard with a dirty hand. “Come with me.” He leads them through the swamp, the slope steadily increasing as they walk. “Everyone in the tribe that’s born with a gift is sent to the banyan-grove tree. It’s not The Source, but it’s the next closest thing.” They emerge from the brush at the base of a mountainous tree, the trunk four times as wide as Zuko is tall at the very least. “The banyan-grove tree is blessed, and its roots make up the entirety of the swamp. You see, everything in here is connected, just like the entire world.”

“The entire world?” Aang sounds mystified, but Zuko is more confused than anything.

“What does this have to do with The Source?” He hates to be rude, but he’s sweaty and smelly and there’s dirt caked behind his ears, and he really just wants out of this damned swamp.

“The Source is just like the banyan-grove tree, but on a much bigger scale. It connects the world and everything in it, breathing life into everything we know.”

“We’re trying to find it so that we can protect it.” Katara lays a hand on one of the giant roots protruding from the ground. “Someone’s trying to destroy it.”

“If something were to happen to The Source, the whole world would shrivel up like a plant without water,” Huu says, his voice is dire and serious. “I don’t know who’d be stupid enough to try to hurt it, but you can’t let that happen.”

“Huu, you said the banyan-grove tree is blessed, right?” Aang asks, and Huu nods. “I saw a vision of a girl earlier. Was that the tree- or maybe The Source- trying to tell me something?”

“The banyan-grove tree is known to show visions to some people. It shows us visions that remind us that everything is connected; visions of those we’ve loved and those we’ve lost. Time, death, space, they’re all illusions meant to separate us. But those we love never truly leave us.”

“I saw my mom.” A jolt goes through Zuko as Katara speaks, her voice small and watery.

“I saw my mother too.” Her head whips around so she can look into his eyes, shining blue meeting bright gold in a wordless exchange.

“But I don’t know the girl I saw.”

“Well, time is an illusion, after all, so I’d think that the girl is someone that you’ll meet some time in the future.”

“Maybe she’s the Othered we’re looking for!” Aang turns to Zuko and Katara. “Bumi said it was a girl. Maybe The Source is trying to help us!”

“Makes sense to me.” Huu shrugs, but Zuko’s voice is still stuck in his throat. “Let me bring you to the tribe and get some food in you. And maybe a bath too!”

Huu does indeed bring them back to his tribe, a group of friendly, if not dirty, men and women who wear leaves as hats and eat bugs for dinner. Apparently the group had somehow found their packs that had been left behind when the vines had dragged them off earlier, which Zuko is unendingly grateful for. Although they’re strange, their hospitality is greatly appreciated, and Zuko takes advantage of the clean water the tribe has on hand to scrub the dirt out of all the places it had coagulated on his body and rinse his clothes as best he can before changing. When he finally feels like he’s rid himself of the stench of swamp mud he joins the tribe around their campfire, infinitely glad that he had stocked up on Yangchen’s specialty scented soaps during their brief visit, even if the cinnamon makes his stomach clench as it brings back memories of his mother. 

Katara’s admission of her vision has been in the back of his mind all day, and he vows to ask her about it if they can find some time alone. Their friendship is pretty much back to normal, minus the playful flirting they had indulged in that had sent his heart rate skyrocketing. But still, sometimes the air between them fills with tension, and Zuko tries as hard as he can to forget how soft her lips are so that he doesn’t start staring. He knows that she’s caught him looking at her before, mostly when she’s doing simple things like combing through her hair in the morning, and he doesn’t think the embarrassment will ever lessen. It’s moments like those when he realizes how far gone he truly is, when that word he’s been trying not to think about bubbles up in his throat so powerfully that he has to get up and walk away before he blurts it out like word vomit.

He does end up catching her by herself later that evening. The people of the swamp had been gracious enough to let them stay for a night and even offered to guide them out tomorrow, but he had known that sleep wouldn’t come easily to him tonight. Apparently it wasn’t coming easy to Katara either; she sits next to the smouldering coals of the fire with her knees pulled to her chest, and Zuko drops down beside her without making a sound.

“My mother died when I was eight.” Her quiet voice gently breaks the silence of the night after a few minutes. “A group of bandits or thieves or something came into our village and saw me with her. I was too little to know better than to look strangers in the eye.” A sad smile pulls across her face, but quickly disappears as she continues. “They came to our home later that day. My dad was off hunting, and Gran Gran was doing something in town with Sokka, I don't know what. They wanted me. I didn’t understand at the time why they would, but I do now.” He remembers how scared she had been the first time they had run into a group of thugs, how she had trembled sitting with him for hours in that tree in the forest. “She sent me out the back door to run into town before they saw me so that I could get help, but by the time I got back it was too late. They were searching the house when we showed up. They didn’t even move her body before—” she stops herself, dashing tears from her eyes and sniffling quietly. “That was the only time I’ve ever seen anyone from my village outside of my family look at me with anything other than fear or disgust. And I hated it. I didn’t want their pity, and I still don’t. I picked up all of the chores my mother had done and did them myself. My dad started going on longer hunts, the grief of losing mom pushing him away from our home. And I get it, I really do,” her voice wobbles, and Zuko puts his arm around her shoulder to guide her gently into his side. “But it sucked. I’m over it now I guess, but it was all so fucked up, Zuko. I had to help scrub my own mother’s blood from the floorboards of our home. And she died because of me!” Katara dissolves into silent sobs, and he wraps his arms around her as best he can. Salty tears soak into and through his shirt as she cries, his heart cracking along all of its fault lines as she breaks.

“I’m so sorry Katara.” The tears have stopped, and she leans against his side as he rubs her arm. “Your mother was incredibly brave, and I’m sure she was a wonderful woman. What’s her name?”

“Kya. And she was.” Katara sniffles and rubs her nose on her sleeve. “Do you want to talk about your mom?” His heart stutters in his chest; does he want to talk about her? When was the last time he even said her name?

“My mother was everything to me. My father was cruel to Azula and I, but my mother took the brunt of the abuse so that we didn’t have to. I didn’t realize until after she died how much she actually dealt with.” He swallows hard and tries to steady his voice. “She got really sick, really fast. She was an herbalist, and they told us she had poisoned herself by accident, but Azula and I never bought it. My grandfather had gotten really sick and died not long before she did. Azula and I always thought my father had made our mother poison him.” He couldn’t tell her why, not yet. “Maybe she felt guilty about doing it, or maybe she was scared of being caught. Or maybe she just couldn’t take living there anymore, I don’t know. She got sick and died within a week. I was ten.” He knows he could stop there, but it’s been so long since he’s talked to anyone about his mother, and it feels like he’s cut a wound to drain the pressure: painful, but cathartic. “Things got so much worse after she died. I tried to protect Azula as much as I could, but she was always my father’s favorite. For a while I was scared that she’d turn out just like him, but…” He forces a deep breath into and out of his lungs, and Katara takes his shaking hand in hers. “When I was sixteen I got in a fight with my dad. Like, a huge screaming match. He never let me leave our house because he didn’t want people knowing that his son was Othered, and he had caught me trying to sneak out. He—” The left side of his face tingles and he wrestles with the flashbacks that try to overcome him.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Zuko.” Her voice is a balm, soothing and cool against the heat of his anger and shame.

“I want to.” The glowing blue of her eyes is comforting, and for the first time since he was ten he feels safe. “He held me down and threw boiling water on my face.” Katara gasps beside him. “He wanted to blind me, or at least fuck up my eyes enough that I’d keep them shut. But Azula came out of nowhere and pushed me, and it only got my left eye. She has a nasty burn on her arm from the water, and my father was furious. She was angry at me for a while because of her punishment.” He blinks back the memory of carrying her into his bed in the infirmary, her limp and bloody body small in his bed when he curled around her. “But it made her realize how fucked up our father really is.”

“Zuko...” He doesn’t notice the tears on his face until she wipes them away with the pad of her thumb. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that. That’s horrible.”

“It is what it is.” He can’t acknowledge how bad it was; it’ll only make it hurt more. 

“What’s your mother’s name?” Katara’s question feels like a lance in his heart; his mother’s name is one of those things that he keeps locked away so deep in his mind that pulling it out leaves a gaping hole in its wake.

“Ursa.” He can’t tell if he wants to say more, so he forces everything else he feels back down and tries to move on. “Sorry I dumped all that on you. I’ve never really talked about it with anyone.”

“Don’t ever apologize for coming to me for support.” She snakes her arm around his waist. “I’m here for you Zuko. You’re my best friend, I'll always be here for you.”

“I’m your only friend,” he quips, and she shoves him playfully, a quiet chuckle spilling from his lips in response.

It’s so strange to him that he can be crying in Katara’s arms one minute and smiling with her the next. They sit for a long while, the moon hanging high above them in the dark sky. It had stung a little when she had called him her best friend, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that he could never ask for more. He  _ wants _ more, but if this is all their relationship can ever be, he’ll take it any day. She’s his best friend too; she’s the only person he will ever spill his guts to like this, the only person he’d ever even  _ want _ to know his past. The secrets he keeps gnaw at him from the inside, burning a hole in him like acid, but he can’t tell her everything. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko's trauma really gets to me. poor guy just needs to talk about it and process all that stuff. next up, Gaoling! chapter 11 will be up on Friday ☺


	11. The Bandit

Gaoling is just as impressive as Omashu, but in a significantly different way. Omashu had a sort of utilitarianism to it, a function over form design that made it clear that it was a bustling merchant city. Gaoling is all about the aesthetic; arched bridges lined with flowers stretch over canals that run through the city, people with fancy clothes the likes of which Katara has never seen flitting about between boutiques and cafes. She feels increasingly out of place in her nowhere-near-new clothes and her beat up straw hat, but they eventually find the less affluent part of the city (which is still nicer than anything back home) and hang around there. They have no clue how they’re going to find the girl Aang had seen in the swamp, who they’re assuming is the last elemental Othered that they need on their team before heading to Ba Sing Se. King Bumi’s advice hadn’t been very clear, and the more time they spend in Gaoling, the more nervous Katara gets.

The sun is setting, and Katara’s composure is slipping alongside it behind the silhouette of Gaoling. They’ve been looking and listening as discreetly as they can all day, and there’s been no sign or word of any Othered that live in town. True, those who are Othered are usually shunned and stuffed somewhere on the outskirts of the city, but Katara’s found that there’s always some sort of gossip about her floating through her home village, and she had assumed that Gaoling would be the same.

“This is pointless,” she hisses her words to Zuko and Aang under her breath. “How are we ever going to find her like this?”

“We’ll find her.” Aang sounds so determined, and she wishes that she could say the same for herself.

“In cities this nice, there’s bound to be some sort of underground illegal betting circle or something.” Zuko shrugs as if this is common knowledge. “Rich people get bored easily. I think if we figure out where it is, we might find her there.”

“Why do you say that?” Katara has no doubt that the people of Yangchen have no such illegality in their town, and the purity of Aang’s upbringing rings clear in his words. Yangchen had seemed nice enough to her, but not nearly as gaudy as Gaoling.

“Think about it. This city is full of rich people, right? So it’s probable that this girl comes from a rich family.”

Aang shrugs. “She was wearing nice clothes in my vision.” Katara crosses her arms to try to quell her anxiety at Aang's words. She doesn’t want to think of her vision, and she can’t bear to dwell on what Zuko had told her of his own.

“Right. So if she’s from a rich family, they’re probably hiding her away.” Katara’s mind flashes to the mental image of a young Zuko with a bandaged face as he speaks. “If I were a rich girl trying to sneak out, I'd want to go wherever the excitement is.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Aang seems to have faith in Zuko’s plan, so Katara puts her faith in him too (not like it’s very hard).

They lean against a wall waiting for the sun’s light to drip down below the horizon and leave the world in the deep blue of night. As it gets darker Katara notices the people on the streets changing, the prim and proper nobles filing off to their estates while the people of the lower classes take their turn in the city. They’re not poor by any means, but it’s clear that they’re not in the same caliber of affluence as the hyper rich nobles from earlier in the day. The atmosphere shifts from stuffy and uptight to relaxed and carefree, laughter ringing out and bouncing off of the buildings lining the street. Lanterns light in cafe windows to signal to the upbeat people that they’re still open, the teapots still boiling and whistling heartily, just waiting for patrons to come and take a drink.

Katara feels herself relax minutely, the more modest clothing of the night crowd allowing them to blend in easier. Zuko pushes off of the wall and motions to Aang and Katara with a tilt of his head, leading them into the steady stream of people mingling in the streets. They follow his silent form, the channels they travel down getting darker and less crowded as they head to an area towards the edge of town. Zuko ducks into a wide alley, Aang and Katara shooting curious looks at each other as they trail after him, soon stopping in front of a discreet doorway covered only by a thick piece of canvas. She can hear the muffled sounds of something happening within the building, commotion and excitement seeping out into the night under the flap that shields the probably illegal gathering from the outside world. The small pouch of gold coins Bumi had given them jingles in Zuko’s pocket before he pulls a few out and hands them to the gruff looking man standing in front of the doorway. The man inspects them carefully, his eyes flashing quickly to Katara and Aang, and lays one more calculating glare on Zuko before nodding once and stepping aside to allow them entrance.

The opening leads straight into a downwards staircase, the sounds of whatever is going on under the building growing louder with each step. When they emerge from the stairs, Katara can’t hold back the gasp that escapes her at the sight before them; instead of just a single basement that Katara had been expecting, the underground area spans a large distance, almost like a secret market of its own. She can see people gambling and haggling for expensive looking artifacts, the shouts and drunken guffaws of the shady patrons lifting up into the air and mixing into a dark cacophony. 

“What is this place?” Aang sounds as mystified as she feels, and her head shakes in disbelief as she takes everything in.

“Half black market, half illegal gambling ring, half underground fighting tournament.”

“Zuko, that’s three halves,” she quips, and her teasing draws a light blush into his cheeks, stirring something warm in Katara’s chest.

“Whatever.” They start moving through the crowd, and Katara grabs Zuko’s hand in front of her and Aang’s behind her so that they don’t get separated. “I was listening to the night crowd up top, and a lot of them were talking about the tournament tonight. Apparently the reigning champion is a young woman who’s unbeatable. The rumor is that she’s Othered,” Katara’s heart picks up pace beneath her ribs, “and based on the bouncer’s reception of us, it doesn’t seem like they care too much about people like us down here. I bet her competitors just want to fight so they can take her out and get their hands on her eyes.” The last part is a murmur, barely audible over the noise of the underground gathering around them, but Katara hears it anyway. The words rattle down her spine as a shuddering chill.

The three of them weave in and out of the crowd towards a point unknown to Katara. The commotion gets louder and the crowd thicker as they approach something she can’t quite see, and Zuko grips her hand just a bit tighter as they squeeze through the throng of people. Eventually the market opens up, all of the stalls pushed to the sides and leaving a space for a tall metal fence encompassing a large area. As they get closer, Katara realizes that it’s some sort of arena; the area is lit up better than any other part of the subterranean compound, and as Zuko shoves their way to the front, she sees a raised area inside the fence that acts as the fighting ground. People all around wave coins high above their heads, shouting wagers and calling over collectors to place their bets. More than a few sketchy people glare at Zuko as he pushes his way through, but with one look their eyes narrow and they turn away. She imagines that with the scar and his glowing eyes Zuko paints an intimidating picture, not to mention that he looks strong, if not bulky. _Don’t think about Zuko’s muscles right now. Focus, Katara._

They somehow get close enough to the stage that she can see; she has to pull off her hat due to the density of the crowd, and she draws her hair down around her face to attempt to hide her eyes. Zuko has pulled her in front of him to give her a chance to witness the fight, as her height gives her a definite disadvantage in the bustling sea of people. They wait for a tense minute before a greasy looking man with long shiny hair and angry eyebrows steps out into the middle of the cage.

“Welcome, everyone! I hope you’ve all placed your bets!” He spreads his arms wide, a sly smile emerging on his face as the crowd roars. “We have a great lineup for you tonight; an up-and-comer who calls himself The Boulder will be challenging each resident fighter for a chance to face off against the champion!” The people erupt into enthusiastic cheers and shouts, and several people around them close in on the arena, pushing Zuko right up against her back. “You know the rules; three knockdowns is a TKO, if your opponent gets knocked out, it’s a win, any life threatening injuries are an automatic win, and all weapons are fair game!” Katara swallows at the violence implied in the tournament. “Now, I introduce to you, The Boulder!”

A large man makes his way into the arena, his hulking frame towering over the spectators as they continue to push and squirm around the trio to try and get a better look. Zuko lays his hand on Katara’s shoulder, a seemingly innocuous gesture that she suspects is more protective than he’ll ever let on. As The Boulder defeats every contender standing between him and the champion, more and more people crowd around the arena, regularly causing Zuko to shift and move against her, and her heart rate jumps around like a frightened rabbit each time he presses closer. She has to bite the inside of her cheek on multiple occasions just to stay focused on the fight before her, although the distraction is welcome when blood starts flying from the fighters and splattering on the ground. Luckily it doesn’t look like anyone has sustained any serious injuries, but The Boulder is sporting a bloody lip and more than a few nasty bruises by the time he faces the champion.

“The Boulder has advanced to the final stage, and has won the opportunity to fight against the champion!” The crowd goes absolutely insane, and Zuko has to reach around to brace himself on the fence surrounding the arena so that he doesn’t slam into her behind the force of the crowd. Heat radiates from his body and surrounds her, and a drop of sweat beads and trails down her spine. “Without further ado, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, I give to you, the Blind Bandit!” She could swear that the people around her are feral animals, their screeches and screams rabid and loud in the large space. How nobody on the surface hears the commotion, she’ll never understand.

“She can’t really be blind, can she?” Her eyes lock with Zuko’s behind her, her neck craning to get a better look at him. Both of his hands are on her shoulders now, and the proximity of his face when she turns to see him sends a fresh wave of heat throughout her body.

“I think she is,” he tilts his chin down in a nod, and she turns back around to see a petite girl, definitely shorter than her despite the additional muscle on her arms, walking out into the ring and carrying a huge champion’s belt over her head.

“That’s her,” Aang’s voice comes from somewhere to her left. “That’s the girl I saw. Look at her eyes.” The Bandit’s eyes are milky and clouded, but the soft pale green glow is still visible beneath the cataracts. It’s dull, but it’s definitely there, and a weightless hope soars in Katara’s chest as she watches the young woman hand the belt to a scantily clad assistant.

“The Boulder is conflicted about fighting a little girl!” The Boulder has been referring to himself solely in the third person for the entire night; she wonders if it’s just a part of his gimmick, or if he actually talks like that.

The young woman scoffs as her bare feet slide into a wide stance. “Sounds to me like you’re scared, Boulder!” 

“The Boulder is over his conflicted feelings,” the man pulls out a previously unused metal whip, “and is ready to defeat the champion!” Katara cringes at the thought of the whip’s barbed end making contact with the Blind Bandit’s skin. _How is she going to fight this guy?_

“Bring it on!” The girl's face splits in two around a sly smile as she brings both of her hands up in a strange posture with her palms facing towards her and elbows bent.

The Boulder shouts as he lashes his whip at the Bandit, the metal chain hurtling menacingly through the air, only for it to be stopped and blown off course by a sizable chunk of rock. He spins around, the whip trailing along the ground in a wide arc and sparking as it runs along the wire fence, only to once again be stopped short, this time by a rock wall that has been erected next to the Bandit. The girl’s arm is extended upwards, her wrist bent at a downward angle, and Katara realizes that she’s using her gift to fight. The Blind Bandit stomps the ground in front of her with a flat foot, causing a large rock to spring up from the earth, and she punches out at it to blast it towards her opponent, who it just barely misses. The fight is incredibly fast; the girl is obviously a master of her gift, and she throws rocks like she’s conducting a violent symphony. The end of the fight grows ever closer as she hits The Boulder with a pillar of rock, his ribs audibly snapping under the pressure. Before the man can even right himself, the Bandit has manipulated the ground underneath his feet so that when his foot comes down, The Boulder slides out into a painful split, and the crowd winces collectively at his shout of pain. He doesn’t last much longer after that, the Blind Bandit’s final blow slamming The Boulder into the wire cage and leaving his limp body panting on the ground in a slowly forming pool of dark blood.

“Our undefeated champion!” The announcer runs out and pulls the girl's hand over her head, her wolfish grin amplified by the fact that she doesn’t have a single scratch on her and no doubt fed by the enthusiasm of the raging crowd. “Now, is there anyone out there in the crowd that wishes to challenge the Blind Bandit? There’s a hefty bag of gold waiting for you if you can beat her!” Silence floats over the crowd like a mist, and the announcer throws out his hands in a pleading gesture. “I’ll make it even easier for you: if you can land one hit on the Blind Bandit, the gold is yours! Any takers?”

“I will!” Katara’s head snaps to Aang, his hand raised high in the air and eyes steady on the Blind Bandit.

“Aang, what are you doing!?” Zuko hisses at Aang. “We don’t want to fight her, we want her to be on our side!”

“I’m just going to talk to her.” Aang seems confident as he walks away towards the entrance to the arena, a confidence that neither she nor Zuko can appreciate.

“What is he thinking?” She does her best to keep her voice low, but it has a shrillness to it nonetheless.

“I have no idea, but this is going to end badly.” Zuko takes her hand and leads her towards where Aang had disappeared to.

The two Othered fight for a solid amount of time, and although she knows Aang isn’t trying to hurt the young woman, he doesn’t have perfect control over his element. He missteps at just the wrong time, and the Bandit gets the first knockdown.

“How does he think this is going to end? He’s going to get seriously hurt!” She doesn’t understand why he’d do something so reckless. _Clearly he has a problem with impulse control._

“He has a slim chance of hitting her,” Zuko’s voice is filled with tension. “But he’ll probably get the shit kicked out of him first.”

The crowd screeches along with the fight, and by some miracle Aang manages to knock the Bandit down, but not after taking a few hits of his own. Katara sees him trying to follow the Bandit after he is declared the winner, but she storms off in a huff and disappears into the darkness of the underground market. 

“Fuck. Now we have to go find her anyway.” Zuko leads them to where Aang exits the arena, limping slightly and looking worse for wear. “What were you thinking!? How the hell did you think that was a good idea!?”

“I don’t know!” Aang looks disappointed and confused, and she’d almost feel bad for him if he wasn’t such a dolt. “I thought I could talk to her.”

“Aang, she was having the time of her life beating up a dude three times her size, how could you expect to talk to her in the ring?” Katara lays her hand on Zuko’s arm to calm him down, and she’s surprised at the anxiety she sees in his eyes when he turns to look at her. _He must really care about Aang._

“Let’s just go see if we can find somewhere to sit.” Katara takes up her role as mediator and coaxes the two men into finding a quieter space to talk. 

“Hey!” They’ve just found a quieter area to rest when a voice comes to them out of the shadows. The three of them jump, only to see that the voice belongs to the Blind Bandit herself. “You’re Othered.”

“Yes?” Aang speaks for himself, his cautious tone making the Bandit roll her sightless, shining eyes.

“Don’t ‘yes’ me.” Katara isn’t sure what other answer the girl would have been looking for, but doesn’t dare ask. “What are you doing here? What do you want with me?”

“We need your help,” Aang’s voice is soft, and this time the girl raises her eyebrows, her toned arms crossing over her chest defiantly.

“Oh, yeah? You think beating me and taking my money is a good way to ask for my help?” Aang’s cheeks pink, and Zuko groans.

“I told you,” Zuko elbows Aang in the arm gently. “Listen, we really need your help. The three of us- we’re all Othered.” The Bandit’s eyes narrow. “Is there somewhere else we can talk?”

The girl thinks for a minute before turning around. “Follow me.”

She leads them through the complex and back out into the night air, the warm summer breeze refreshing and light as it dances through Katara’s hair. They follow the Bandit down a few alleyways to an abandoned bench somewhere on the outskirts of the city.

“Alright, talk.” The girl hucks a glob of spit onto the ground after she plops onto the bench, and Katara wrinkles her nose at the crude act.

“Okay, so, everyone who’s Othered gets their gifts from The Source, and someone’s trying to destroy it.” The Bandit’s face remains passive as Zuko explains. “So the three of us each have elemental gifts, and we need someone who can manipulate earth to come with us to protect The Source so that we have one of each element.”

“Why do you need one of each element?” It’s barely a question, her tone sounding bored, if anything.

“Well,” Zuko rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t really know, honestly. I think it’ll just help if we have a well-rounded group.” A heavy silence weighs upon the four Othered as the girl considers Zuko’s story.

“So essentially, you’re asking me, a girl you just met, and beat up,” Aang winces as she points at him, “to go on some sort of crazy adventure with you all to save this “Source” place that I hardly know anything about. Is that right?” It sounds ridiculous when she puts it like that, and a bitter dread fills Katara’s mouth. _We’re screwed. She’s never going to-_ “I’m in.”

“Wait, what?” Aang is the first one to get his voice back, Katara and Zuko still too shocked to form words. “I mean, that’s great, but I’m confused.”

“I fucking hate it here!” the girl throws her arms out to the side. “My life is so boring and sheltered. A crazy dangerous adventure sounds pretty great when I've been hidden away in my parents estate for twenty two years.”

“So you’ll come with us?” She can’t help the hope that fills her words, and the Bandit’s mouth twitches at the corner.

“Yeah, I think I will.” The other three relax, a small weight lifted off of their shoulders with the girl’s answer. “I gotta go back home and grab some shit first. Come on. Oh, and the name’s Toph.”

They follow her lead through the city, winding around mostly deserted streets in the small hours of the night. Inky darkness spills from the sky onto the street, all the lanterns in the various shops windows having been blown out hours ago, and Katara hurries to stay close to the group. She can feel the shadows stretching out like tendrils, and a quiet unease grows in her gut. The three of them wait outside while Toph sneaks back into her parent’s estate, which is, by and large, the biggest estate in the whole city. She’s back out faster than Katara would have thought, and soon they’re walking out of Gaoling as a group of four.

“Alright, come out!” Just steps outside the boundary of the city, Toph turns around. “I know you’ve been following us, Xin Fu. You’re a damn fool to think you and your lackies can sneak up on me.” Katara is confused at first, until the announcer from the tournament emerges from behind the wall that marks the entrance to Gaoling.

“Oh, I think you’re the fool, Bandit,” The Boulder and a handful of other contestants from the tournament join Xin Fu. “You thought you could swindle me out of the winnings, huh? Take the full load instead of the forty percent we usually give you and run off with your freak-show friends?”

“I don’t care about your damn money, dunderhead,” Xin Fu’s eyes narrow at Toph’s insult. “Now why don’t you scurry back into the nasty hole you came from so I don’t have to get my hands dirty.”

“You little shit!” Xin Fu hisses, and The Boulder pulls out his metal whip. The other contenders brandish a myriad of weapons of their own, swinging sickles and swishing daggers in menacing gestures. 

Toph’s mouth pulls up into a devilish smirk as she drops her bag. “I’ve kicked all your asses before, and I'll happily do it again. Come get some!”

The fighters lunge forward, coming at the four Othered with vengeance in their eyes. Katara pulls her water out of it’s skin and bats away The Boulder’s whip, freezing the metal all the way up to his hand and causing him to yelp in pain. She sees fire flashing beside her and hears a loud gust of air as more of the fighters go down. Toph encases Xin Fu in rock, leaving only his head free, and the rest of the fighters go down in a matter of seconds.

“You know, if I didn’t think you guys had walnuts for brains before,” Toph kicks at The Boulder where he lies on the ground, “I definitely do now. Trying to fight _me,_ along with three Othered? Imbeciles.” She turns around and scoops up her bag as they continue away from the city, leaving the fighters and an angry Xin Fu in their wake. “You guys are pretty badass for a bunch of weirdos.”

“Thanks?” Katara isn’t sure if it’s meant as a compliment or an insult or both. “How do you fight, anyway? You’re blind.”

“No shit.” She bristles at Toph’s attitude. “I use my gift to sense the vibrations in the earth that things make when they move. So, in a way, I can see, just not like you can.”

“That’s pretty neat,” Aang sounds genuinely excited about Toph’s abilities. “How’d you learn that?”

“Crazy as it is, I learned in a dream. There were these huge animals with me, and I don't know how, but they taught me how to see. When I woke up I tried it out, and it worked, and I never really questioned it, I guess.”

“What family are you from?” Zuko’s question is random, and Katara suspects that he hadn’t been listening to her story very closely.

“Beifong,” Toph answers. The name means nothing to Katara, but Zuko’s eyebrow raises. “Why?”

“No reason,” he shrugs, and Toph narrows her eyes.

“You know, your heartbeat changes when you lie.” Katara sees Zuko’s hands clench at his sides, and she wonders, not for the first time, about how much he’s hiding from them.

“I was just curious.” Toph either believes Zuko or doesn’t want to push him; either way, they continue on to find somewhere to set up camp for the night.

Xx

Later that night, Katara finds herself alone in front of the dying embers of their campfire. She thinks back to the fight, when Zuko had been pressed up against the length of her back, and feels her face flush. The angle of his jawline when she had looked up at him had been sharp enough to cut glass, diamond in a sea of coal, and as much as she tries to get the image out of her head, it’s stubborn like heat in the summer stuck to her skin.

“So,” Toph drops down next to her unceremoniously. “What’s up with you and Sparky?”

“Who?”

Toph rolls her eyes. “Zuko.”

“Oh,” a fierce blush floods her cheeks. “Nothing’s up.”

“Weren’t you listening earlier? I know when you’re lying.” Katara looks down at the petite young woman beside her.

“I’m not lying.”

“Oh, so you just _want_ something to be up, I get it.” 

“No! Look, I don’t-”

Toph holds a hand up to Katara’s face, cutting her off with the rude gesture. “Listen Sugar Queen, I really don’t care. You can deny it all you want, but we both know it’s true. But,” she throws her hands up, “it’s not my business how both your hearts start beating like love sick teenagers when you look at each other.” Toph rises to her feet and stretches her hands above her head, her shoulders popping audibly.

“Wait, both of our hearts?” Toph smirks and leaves without giving Katara an answer, offering only a short wave before she flops onto her back on the ground closer to the tents. With a bang of her fist, the ground shoots up around her to form her own private tent.

Katara lays back on the ground, trying to find some serenity in the act of tracing the constellations in the sky. _Both of our hearts?_ The ghost of the kiss they shared comes back to her like it does every night, but tonight she analyzes it further than she’s usually willing to. Zuko’s hesitance at first, and his enthusiasm when she had wanted more. His sure thumb brushing her jaw and his warm hand laying on her neck. The way he had bit her lip so gently that it drove her mad, the soft caress of his lips as they moved against hers in a passionate dance, the mantra pumping through her with every beat of her heart: _more, more, more._ She thinks of the pretty blush that had stained his cheeks pink when they parted, the way his lips had kept that small space between them, a space that she so badly had wanted to fill. _Is it possible? Am I willing to bet our friendship on it?_ She thinks of his soft hands and his soft eyes and his soft heart, of all the pain he’s endured and all of the pain she doesn’t even know about. She thinks about his radiant smile, about how mirth and happiness pour from his lips like honey, tacky and sweet, and how badly she wants to taste it, to drown in it. _I think I love him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all liked my strange rendition of earth rumble 6! Toph is officially part of the group ☺ let me know what you think!! next update on Monday!


	12. The Chasm

According to their map, their journey to the edge of the desert will take about two months.

Katara isn’t sure that she’s going to be able to stay sane for that long.

She had been excited to add another girl to the group; not that Aang and Zuko are gross or dirty or anything. On the contrary, they are both incredibly concerned with cleanliness, at least based on how much Sokka had always been concerned (or unconcerned) about his personal hygiene. It makes sense based on what she knows about Aang’s culture, which isn’t actually a lot, that he’d be neat. Yangchen’s fragrant soaps and oils are apparently known around the world for their quality, and a culture built around such a massive export no doubt puts emphasis on cleanliness. Zuko’s penchant for keeping clean is a mystery to Katara; for someone who’s been on the road for years, she would have thought that his concerns would be placed elsewhere. But there’s a lot about Zuko that she doesn’t know, and she can see it in his mannerisms. His perfect posture is out of place when they sit around the campfire at night and hints at a privileged upbringing, but his cat-like reflexes and toned body indicate far more than just a few years of being on the road. Regardless of the secrets Zuko is undoubtedly keeping from her (she has yet to decide how she feels about this; clearly he has some dark shadows following him from his past, but that’s his business until he wants to share it with her), he puts an emphasis on bathing and doing laundry, which Katara can- and does- greatly appreciate.

But Toph, on the other hand, seems to revel in her dirtiness. Katara knows that the girl doesn’t wear shoes so that she can use her gift to see, which is understandable, but Toph doesn’t even brush the dirt off of her hands before eating. She elects to sleep straight on the ground, no bedroll, no blanket, nothing. Getting her to let Katara wash her clothes is like pulling teeth, and for someone who was raised so coddled and had lived such a cushy life, she doesn’t understand the younger girl’s love of filth. On top of all of that, as great of a fighter as Toph is, she’s also a menace in her own right, refusing to help with chores and poking fun at all of them at every opportunity. Her and Aang get along swimmingly, even Zuko doesn’t seem to mind Toph’s abrasive attitude, and Katara will admit (begrudgingly) that Toph is funny in her own strange way, but to say that they get along would be a longshot.

As they approach the canyon that spans across the mountain range, Katara is on her very last nerve. Going through the canyon is the only way to the other side of the mountains that won’t cause them to back track (she would rather climb over the mountains entirely than go through that stupid tunnel and mess everything between her and Zuko up again), but as they stare across the massive, yawning maw that stretches before them, Katara has a feeling that she’ll be missing the glowing tunnel more than usual very soon.

“How are we going to get down there?” Three of the four Othered peer over the edge of the canyon, Katara’s question echoing through the open space eerily.

“I’ll handle it,” Toph cracks her knuckles. “Hold on!”

Katara doesn’t even have time to ask what she should be holding on  _ to  _ before the ground drops beneath her. Luckily for her, Zuko is quick to react as always, and he grabs onto her arm so that she doesn’t fly off of her feet entirely as her heart climbs its way up her throat. Toph has taken control of the large section of earth beneath their feet, and is sending it careening downwards to the bottom of the canyon at a speed that has Katara’s hair flying around her as she clutches onto Zuko. They stop suddenly, Katara and Zuko stumbling awkwardly together and Aang using his air to cushion his own landing. She rights herself and looks up to thank Zuko, who is still holding onto her as she gets her footing.

“Thanks,” her voice is more breathless than she’d like to admit, and Zuko’s hand spanning across the small of her back doesn’t help her cause.

“Of course,” he pulls away, and she tries to convince herself that she’s imagining the cold spot on her back where his hand had been.

Toph mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “dunderheads” and leads them into the depths of the canyon. Katara marvels in the beauty of the tall cliff sides, the different layers of rock spanning every shade from cream to deep red, marking the years like rings in the trunk of a tree. The banyan-grove tree springs into her mind, and she wonders how many rings are held within its massive body, how many days and nights it's seen throughout the years. Their steps seem to move them inch by inch, the blazing sun beating down on them with increasing intensity as the day wears on. The four Othered drag their feet through the canyon, the steep walls never moving as they wilt in the oppressive dry heat. The sun travels lazily along its path, and the air shimmers in its golden rays so much that it makes Katara dizzy.

Somehow they continue on until the sun sets, and after Toph raises a dias for them to sleep on, they all plop to the ground to rest, exhausted and sweating. Katara is the first to get up to start unpacking their bags, Zuko and Aang following suit, while Toph stays behind on the ground.

“It looks like we’re about a third of the way to the other side,” a collective groan rings out from Aang, Katara, and Toph at Zuko’s words. “So if we keep up this pace, we’ll be out in two days.” The group goes silent again, too tired to speak while working to set up camp. They’re almost done and Toph hasn’t lifted a finger, content to lean on the ground and pick the wax from her ears before flinging it off into the distance, and Katara is sick of it.

“Toph, can’t you just use your gift to send us across the canyon faster on a rock slab or something?”

“Are you serious? That’d be exhausting! I’d probably pass out halfway through!”

“Oh, well I figured since you’re not doing anything, you’ll be nice and refreshed tomorrow,” she glares at the younger girl, even though she knows that it goes unseen.

“Why should I do anything?” Katara’s eyes bulge as they open impossibly wide at Toph’s attitude. “All I need is a rock tent and I'm good.”

“Okay, but you need to eat, so you could set up the campfire or something, at least.”

Toph taps her chin like she’s considering it. “Nah, don’t think so.”

“You are insufferable! Do you know that?” The heat and exhaustion coupled with Toph’s laziness break her resolve, slamming into it like a hammer to a piece of glass.

“Fuck off, Sugar Queen!” Toph is on her feet in a second, her finger pointing right in Katara’s face. 

“Oh, you can get up to yell at me, but you can’t get up to help out, huh?” Katara braces her hands on her hips.

“Guys?” Aang’s voice is cautious and small.

“What?!” Both Katara and Toph whip their heads around to stare at Aang and Zuko, who stand wide-eyed on the other side of the fire.

“Nothing!” Aang puts his hands up, and Zuko shakes his head.

Toph continues on as if there had been no interruption at all. “I carry my own weight, okay? Why should I help you set up your shit when I’m not going to use it?”

“Because that’s how we do things! We’re a team, we help each other out and-”

“Oh, boo hoo! Grow up, Sweetness! I don’t need anyone’s help, alright? So just piss off!”

“ _ Me  _ grow up? Are you fucking kidding me?  _ You’re  _ the one acting like a petulant child!” The two girls are inches away from each other, faces beet red and teeth bared.

“Alright, that’s it,” Zuko braves the daggers they shoot at him with their eyes and steps in between them. “You both need to calm down.

“Calm?  _ I’m completely calm! _ ” she definitely is not calm, her heart beating a violent tattoo against her ribs so hard she wonders if they’ll break.

“Fuck this.” Toph walks off to the far side of the dias and erects a rock tent around her, closing herself off from the rest of the group.

Katara throws her hands in the air with a growl, stalking off to the opposite end of their sleeping space. “Typical.” She’s too tired to fight anymore, so she mutters this last barb knowing that it won’t land.

She pulls her knees up to her chin and stares out over the canyon, the beauty lost on her as she seethes with anger. She hears the fire jump to life behind her, and some time later Zuko comes to sit next to her with a bowl of food in hand. She doesn’t thank him; she feels like if she were to open her mouth that she’d start to cry, and the last thing Katara wants to do is give Toph the satisfaction of knowing that she’s upset. Zuko thankfully doesn’t press her, allowing her to sit in silence and cool off, the dissipating heat and hot food doing wonders for her mood, but not enough to soothe her anger entirely. The camp is mostly silent for the rest of the night save for Aang and Zuko’s clipped conversations, and Katara is infinitely glad when she crawls into her bedroll and passes out in minutes.

Xx

The next day is much of the same, but an icy tension spans the space between Toph and Katara. She would almost feel bad for getting so angry-  _ almost _ \- if Toph had decided to help out this morning, but she still hadn’t put in any effort to share the chores. The air is stifling and dry, the dirt beneath their feet kicking up into a permanent cloud of dust with every step, covering their clothes and hair and sticking to Katara’s sweaty skin. Aang tries to lighten the mood with a few jokes, but the air in the group is sour, and after a while he gives up with a tired shrug directed at Zuko. They walk and walk and walk, their steps blurring together, the beautiful colors of the canyon walls melting and bleeding into each other until all Katara can see is a mess of brown.

The night comes and goes, the moon arcing above them and disappearing below the horizon as it chases the sun. Katara tries not to think about Zuko sleeping in the other tent like she does every night, and fails, like she does every night. The morning comes and they head out again, trudging along the dirt expanse for the last leg of their journey through the canyon. Things are going well, or at least normal, when Toph stops in her tracks.

“Do you guys hear that?” Katara strains her ears, but hears nothing.

“Is it… buzzing?” She has no idea how Zuko has trained his hearing so well; she’ll have to ask him some day soon.

“Something’s coming, and there’s a lot of them!” Toph’s voice is dire, and they pick up the pace, breaking into a futile jog as a horde of  _ something _ materializes in the distance behind them. “We can’t outrun them!”

“What are we going to do?” Her voice shakes as the creatures get closer. “We can’t fight them all!” 

Toph stomps into the ground, and it raises below them just a bit, a lip rising around the edge of the wedge-like shape she’s materialized below them. “Hold onto your butts!” 

With a swing of her arms, the platform rockets forward, sending Katara, Aang and Zuko back into the lip Toph had graciously created. But the buzzing creatures are fast, and they begin to take the shape of gigantic wasps flying at them at a terrifying speed. Zuko sweeps his arm and creates a large arcing flame behind them, but the horrid bugs don’t seem to be deterred. They advance on the group quicker than Katara would have ever thought possible, and her, Aang, and Zuko get to work fighting them off as Toph hauls them to the edge of the canyon. Her eyes water at the speed, and it’s hard to control her element when they’re skating through the canyon, but she does her best and gets the hang of it rather quickly, strengthening her hold on the water to ensure that the stream doesn’t break apart midair. 

She turns around to look at Toph, and sees one of the large bugs advancing on the petite girl sweating and swinging her arms like a madwoman.  _ She can’t see the bugs.  _ Katara peels herself from the lip her body had been braced against, fighting against the force of motion that had pushed her back and held her there to get closer to Toph. With a grunt, she whips the bug with her water, and with a grotesque  _ snap _ it falls to the ground, tumbling behind and away from them as they speed forward.

“What was that?” Toph’s voice is high and laced with panic.

“Don’t worry,” Katara lashes out at another monstrous wasp that is heading towards them. “I’ll cover you.”

They relentlessly attack the ferocious creatures; Aang and Zuko work together to feed air into the flames to coax them into massive plumes, and Katara swats at countless wasps that manage to get past the men's assault. Her arms are sore, and she can see Toph straining to keep her arms in motion, her teeth bared and hands shaking.

“I see the edge!” Katara lunges behind Toph to bat another wasp out of the sky. “We’re almost there, keep going!” 

With a shout, Toph makes a herculean effort to propel them up and towards the edge of the canyon, her arms giving out as soon as they touch the lip, and the four of them hurtle forward into the grass at the loss of momentum. They all lay panting on the ground, catching their breath and resting sore muscles. Katara shakes dirt out of her hair and Zuko spits grass out of his mouth as they rise, and she turns to look at Toph who is still flopped on her back in the grass.

“Need a hand?” Toph nods weakly, and Katara helps her get up so that she doesn’t have to put more weight on her arms. “You know, you’re pretty badass.”

Toph’s smile is lopsided and tired, but genuine all the same. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya.” Their laughs sound more like stilted sighs, but Katara feels the tension between them melt in the hot summer sun.

Xx

The landscape on this side of the mountain range is drastically different than what they have been travelling through for the last few months. The air is dry and hot, and the vegetation consists mostly of shrubs and sparse ash trees, the latter of which at least provide some shade as they amble on. They tell Toph about the secret desert library that night around the campfire, and she justifiably isn’t very interested.

“I have no desire to explore some super-special-awesome ancient library. You’ve felt one book, you’ve felt them all. You guys really think you’ll find what you need in there?”

“Honestly,” the three others look between each other before Zuko continues. “We have no idea. But it’s our only lead and it’s worth a shot.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Toph picks at her ear and flicks whatever she had extracted off into the night. Katara doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to the other girl’s crass nature, but at least they aren’t at each other’s throats anymore. “How are we going to get out into the middle of the desert?” That’s a question she hadn’t thought of, and she turns to Zuko for the answer.

“I’m not sure,” his shoulders slump as he lets out a heavy sigh. “We can always walk, but we have no idea where this library even is. It would take us forever to find it on foot.”

“I can go ahead and try to scout it out on my glider,” Aang looks at them with wide glowing eyes. “At least then we’ll know where it is.”

“That’s not a bad idea. There’s an oasis near the edge of the desert,” Zuko pulls out and unrolls the map so that Katara and Aang can see. “The people there must have a way of getting through it. Right?” He looks questioningly at Katara, and her stomach swoops dangerously when his shining gold eyes lock with hers.

“I would think so,” she doesn’t break their eye contact, feeling herself fall into the sunshine in his eyes and letting it warm her from the inside out.

“Alright!” Toph’s loud words break the two of them out of their stupor, a blush blooming in Katara’s cheeks as she turns away. “It’s settled then. We’ll head to the oasis and send Twinkletoes over here,” she nods to Aang, her bangs swishing with the motion, “to see if the library is visible from the air. The rest of us will ask around and hope that someone there has a way through the desert.” 

It’s not a very solid plan, but it’s better than nothing. They eat their meal in a comfortable quiet, too drained to have much of a conversation. Zuko offers to go hunting; they’ll need to ration all the dry goods that they can for the upcoming journey through the desert. Katara watches him as he disappears into the trees, dragging her lips through her teeth unconsciously.

“So, Sweetness,” she turns to Toph, who’s using a stick to pick the remainders of her dinner out from between her teeth. “When are you gonna tell Sparky that you love him?” 

She almost chokes on the tea she had brewed for them all, the scalding liquid spraying messily out of her mouth. She thanks whatever gods may be that Zuko isn’t here to witness her make a complete fool of herself, and that he isn’t there to see Aang try to stifle his laughter and Toph lay a self satisfied smirk on her.

“I don’t love him!” She tries to sound like she actually believes what she’s saying, but based on the looks she gets from Toph and Aang, she’s not doing a very good job.

“I don’t know why the two of you keep trying to lie to me when you know it’s pointless.”

Katara sighs, wilting under Aang and Toph’s glowing gazes. “I don’t know if I love him.”

“That’s bullshit, too.” She’s about to snap at Toph when the younger girl puts a hand up to stop her. “Listen, I’m not trying to be mean here. But it’s obvious. Well, to us at least. Sparky’s skull must be thicker than that canyon is wide.”

“Katara,” Aang’s voice is much more compassionate. “You two really need to talk, especially about what happened in the cave.”

“He told you what happened?” Aang shuffles awkwardly in his seat as her heart drops down to the floor.

“I kind of dragged it out of him,” his face turns sheepish as Katara’s crumples.

“Oh, god,” she drops her face into her open palms. “He probably thought it was so stupid. Please tell me he doesn't hate me.”

“Hate you? Katara, did you scramble your brain in that canyon?” She’s not used to Aang being so sassy, and it snaps her out of her self-deprecating thoughts.

“Katara,” Toph has never called her by her real name, and the seriousness of the girl’s tone pulls her back from the edge of tears. “He likes you too. I can’t believe you can’t see it, you two are blinder than I am.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she finds her voice. “No he doesn’t. We’re just friends, he doesn’t like me like that.”

“What would it take to convince you that he does?” Aang’s question catches her off guard.

“Um,” she brings her hands up to fiddle with the ends of her hair. “I don’t know. If he told me I’d believe it.”

“Well, that won’t work. He’s just as chicken shit as you are.” Katara would be offended at Toph’s harsh words if her brain wasn’t spinning in circles inside her head.

“There’s no way we can convince you?” It almost sounds like Aang is pleading with her, and it does nothing to quell her nerves.

“What did he say about the kiss?” Even if it’s bad, there’s a burning curiosity in her that  _ needs to know. _

“I mean, he didn’t, like, go into detail,” Aang’s cheeks flush along with Katara’s.

“He said you swapped spit in a nasty cave and walked out like nothing happened.” All the blood that had been in Katara’s face drains out so fast she gets dizzy.

“No! He didn’t say it like that!” Aang puts a hand on her shoulder. “He didn’t. I can’t betray his trust by telling you what he said, but you guys really need to talk about it because your mutual pining is driving me crazy. I can only imagine how crazy it’s driving you.” 

She lets out a long groan and falls back onto the ground. “Toph, can you just, like, bury me right now? Please? I’d rather eat dirt than talk about this any more.”

“Fine, we’ll drop it. But when you two finally get your heads out of your asses, don’t get mad at me for saying ‘I told you so’.” 

Aang gets up and wanders off to who knows where, but Toph stays at Katara’s side at the crackling fire. The sounds of night creatures hum around them for a number of minutes until she hears the other girl shift next to her.

“I’m sorry I was such an ass to you out in the canyon,” Katara sits up to look at Toph, whose face is set and tinted with sadness. “I was so stifled growing up; my parents always had someone do everything for me. They thought I was so helpless, even more so because I’m Othered.” Sympathy swells in her chest at Toph’s words. “I guess I just want to do everything on my own. I don’t want to need anybody else’s help to take care of myself.”

“Toph,” she reaches over and lays her hand on Toph’s shoulder. “You’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. But you don’t have to do it all on your own. We’re a team, and we help each other not because we feel like we need to, but because we want to.” Toph sniffs and rubs her nose. “You’re a part of our wonky little family now, whether you like it or not.” The other girl chuckles and punches Katara’s shoulder with little force.

“Thanks Sugar Queen.” They sit in a comfortable silence for a little bit longer before Toph heads off to bother Aang, and Katara lays back down on the hard dirt and closes her eyes.

She doesn’t move for a long time, not until she hears Zuko return from his hunt, which prompts her to bolt into her tent like the night air itself had burnt her. She doesn’t miss the confusion on Zuko’s face as she bids him a hasty goodnight, and guilt wraps like barbed wire around her heart.  _ There’s no way he feels like that about me. Absolutely no way. _ All of the little moments with him flash through her mind, all of the casual touches and the way she swears his eyes burn brighter when she’s close to him. Their playful flirting before Aang had joined them on the road burns a hole in her mind, and their kiss plays over and over and over again until she’s pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes to try to get it to stop. She curses Toph and Aang in her head for riling her up, for disturbing the tenuous peace she had made in her mind with her fate regarding Zuko. She wants  _ so much _ more of him that it’s almost pathetic. She wants to fall asleep cradling him in her arms like she had after his nightmare so many months ago. She wants to hold him and touch him and learn him better than she knows herself. She wants his heart in her hands, and hers in his, bloody and warm and raw and  _ real.  _ His smile is the rising sun, and she wants to bask in it day after day like a lazy cat. His laughter is nectar pouring from his mouth, and she wants to kiss it from his lips and taste the sticky sweetness like it’s made just for her. But she would rather throw herself back into the canyon than jeopardize what they have now. It’s enough just to see his smile and watch his hair ruffle in the breeze. She can survive hearing him say her name without wanting him to whisper it in her ear like a prayer.  _ Who am I kidding? _ She buries her head in her bedroll and lets out a long frustrated groan, and begs for sleep to take her away from the ghost with golden eyes that haunts her with no reprieve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all liked this one! it was definitely fun to write, i'll say that. next chapter we get some good good zutara action, so stay tuned for the next update on wednesday! fair warning, i may be updating later than usual, but the chapter will definitely be up wednesday (at least in eastern time)


	13. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is coming to you all a day early because I realized that I may not be able to post tomorrow and I didn't want to leave you all hanging!

The Si Wong Desert is thrust upon them with a stiff heat and the vision of a beige, flat expanse dancing with shimmering mirages spanning as far as the eye can see. If Zuko had thought the heat was oppressive before, he realizes now that the shade of the towering ash trees and the slight breeze had been a blessing. His feet drag through the sand that seeps into his shoes, his clothes, his hair, his eyes, and everywhere else that sand shouldn’t be. A thin layer of tiny grains covers every part of him, itching his skin under his clothes and clumping in his hair, and after only a few days he’d rather take on the wasps in the massive chasm they had crossed than continue through the barren desert. 

It takes them a week to get to the Misty Palms Oasis, a week of brutal dry heat during the day and frigid nights spent in a “cuddle puddle,” as Aang so affectionately called it, with Zuko’s higher body temperature acting like a human space heater. The first night he had been totally against the idea until Katara had pressed herself into his side and wrapped her arm around his waist, and he had been so blinded by the sparkling warmth that had spread through his entire body that he hadn’t even minded when Aang curled up on his other side and Toph laid across all of them, conjuring a rock pillow conveniently under her head where it poked out over Aang’s shoulder. He hadn’t been able to relax for quite a while after that, but eventually the sounds of his friend’s even breathing around him lulled him to sleep. The stiff limbs and crick in his neck had been worth it when he woke up before everyone else, a stubborn tear falling from his eye as he realized that he hadn’t felt as loved in that moment as he had in years. After that it had become their nightly ritual, and Zuko found that he strangely looked forward to it as they dragged themselves through the desert. Of course, the best part of it all was being able to sleep with Katara curled into his body to soak up his heat. She had been strangely distant since their trip through the canyon, and the sinking feeling that he had done something wrong had made a queasy nest in his gut. So he revelled in her closeness during the night, trying not to cross any boundaries while his heart tried to rip itself out of his chest to get closer to hers so violently that he was surprised that she couldn’t feel it.

The Oasis was as he expected it to be; run down and full of seedy people, consisting only of a bar, a tiny inn, a small market, and a teahouse. They were all able to get their hands on wide brimmed straw hats to match Katara’s, which they kept on as they entered the grungy bar and grabbed a table.

“Okay,” he spoke in a hushed tone as the four of them leaned into the middle of the small, sticky table. “Aang, we’ll wait here while you go see what you can find. We’ll see if we can get a couple rooms at the inn so when you come back we can rest for the night. If you don’t find anything before nightfall, come back and you can go out again tomorrow.”

Aang nods as the barkeep brings them the over priced water they had ordered. “Sounds good. I’ll head out after we’re done here.”

“Make sure you’re far enough away from the Oasis that people don’t see you before you go.” Katara’s whispered warning is well founded; every person in the Oasis bar had a sketchy look to them, each of their faces home to a perpetual scowl.

“Definitely.” They use some of Toph’s copious amounts of money to buy a bland meal before leaving the bar and bidding Aang goodbye. 

“Look,” Zuko points as discreetly as he can to a stall on the other end of the Oasis with a small fenced-in area housing a handful of animals.

“What are they?” He sometimes forgets that Katara has never left her small village in the north, and that subsequently almost everything on this journey is new to her.

“The ones with the humps are camels. They store fat and water in the humps so they can go a long time without food or water. The big grey ones are elephants, I don’t really know a lot about them, honestly.” He watches the curious wonder in her eyes shine, making the ever present blue glow just a little more pronounced. She smiles, and his world gets brighter.

“They look weird,” Toph rubs her nose. “At least I can see them here.” She had explained to them begrudgingly that the sand messed with her unique way of seeing the world, making everything fuzzy and indistinct, and had been grateful when they had stepped onto the hard ground in the Oasis. Zuko knows that she doesn’t want his pity, but he can’t help but wonder how hard it must be for her, travelling for days on end without really being able to see like she usually does.

“That’s our best bet to get to the library,” he nods at the animals. “We probably shouldn’t shell out the money for the elephants, but a few camels will be a big help.” There’s only two camels in the pen, and he looks forward to sharing one with Katara even as he dreads it.

The sun makes its way through the sky while they restock their supplies, Zuko all the while watching the people of the Oasis over his shoulder. There’s probably only a few people that actually live here, and they’re innocent enough, but the weight of eyes weigh heavy on his back, and he knows that their motley crew is drawing too much attention. He herds Katara and Toph into the small inn to get out of the open, walking up to the counter and praying to any god that will listen that they have rooms.

“Two rooms,” he doesn’t want to meet eyes with the man behind the counter and see the look he’s giving Zuko for checking into a hotel with two pretty young women, and hopes that his declaration of needing separate rooms dashes any nefarious thoughts from the man’s mind.

“Only got one.” Toph scoffs quietly behind him. “Two beds, though.” Zuko slides the coins across the counter and takes the key, not looking forward to sleeping on the assuredly sandy floor.

The room is at least clean, if not sparse. The room does have two beds like the man had promised, but they’re  _ tiny _ , barely spanning the width of two bedrolls. Toph immediately pushes past him and flops on one of the beds, splaying her limbs out as much as she can and sighing.

“It’s been too long since I’ve slept in a real bed,” both Katara and Zuko hum in agreement, their packs landing with hearty  _ thunks _ on the floor in the middle of the room.

“I’m gonna find the washroom.” He doesn’t think he’s ever been so glad to bathe in something that isn’t a river or stream; the water is warm due to the heat and soothes his aching muscles, and the quality of his bag has mercifully kept the sand out of his clean clothes.

Once he’s done, he leaves the girls to get cleaned up and waits outside for Aang. The sun is almost completely below the horizon when he finally shows up, glowing grey eyes flashing in the pinks and purples of the last moments of sunset. Zuko doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s mesmerized by the color of Aang and Toph’s eyes. Not that he isn’t mesmerized by Katara’s eyes, but this is different. He can recognize the beauty of his friend’s glowing grey and shining soft seafoam green without the haze of romantic feelings clouding his vision. He wonders if his eyes are as pretty as theirs.

Aang nods at him, a promising gesture, and Zuko leads him to their room for the night. “I found it, but it’s far out. If we have to walk it’ll take the better part of two weeks.”

“We don’t have to walk. There’s a stall with some animals that we can rent that’ll-”

“Oh, what kind of animals?” Aang’s face lights up, and Zuko isn’t surprised that he’s an animal lover.

“Camels and elephants, but we’ll be taking the camels,” he smiles at Aang’s enthusiasm, glad that he still has some child-like wonder left in him.

“Oh, I've read about those! I can’t wait to ride them! Plus, that’ll probably cut our travel time in half. This is great!” Aang chatters to noone about the other animals he’s read about while gathering his things, and heads off to bathe while the rest of them head to the inn’s main room to get a meal.

Once they’ve all eaten and it’s time to sleep, Zuko mentally prepares to sleep on the floor and grabs his bedroll.

“What are you doing?” He looks up at Katara’s wide blue eyes, doing his best to ignore the way his heart swoops in his chest.

“Um, getting my bedroll? To sleep?”

“I’m going to sleep on the floor, you take the bed.”

“No,” he stands up, and her eyes follow him. “You take the bed. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she crosses her arms in front of her chest, the universal signal that she’s not planning on backing down any time soon. “You take it.”

“That’s not-”

“Oh my god, both of you just sleep on the bed!” Toph flops down next to Aang on the other bed, unburdened by the trepidation that comes with love. “We literally cuddled every night for the past week, just get on the fucking bed and shut up.”

“Okay, rude,” Katara mutters to Toph, but uncrosses her arms and looks away from him as a pretty blush blooms on her cheeks. He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, his own blush migrating up to his good ear and down his neck. “Inside or outside?”

“Inside,” he hesitates before climbing onto the bed, and presses himself up against the wall to give Katara as much room as possible before she lays down next to him.

_ Okay Zuko, just breathe. _ It’s so much different than how they had slept out in the desert, the buffer of Toph and Aang’s presence glaringly absent in the small bed. They haven't slept this close since before Aang had joined them, before the cave and-  _ don’t, don’t go there.  _ He wonders if the rapid beating of his heart is powerful enough to shake the bed, because it’s definitely powerful enough to shake his bones. Katara’s breathing is a forced calm beside him, and he knows that she’s thinking about their kiss too.  _ Stupid cave, stupid crystals, stupid perfect kiss.  _ He rolls over onto his back, still trying to stay as far away from Katara as possible, the miniscule space between them spanning for what might as well be miles on the small, lumpy mattress. Katara shifts beside him, and his breath catches in his chest as she turns towards him and moves closer. Instinctively his arm raises so that she can rest her head in the crook of his shoulder, his stomach doing backflips when she lays her hand on his solar plexus. There’s no doubt in his mind that she can feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest almost directly under her ear, and he has no choice but to accept that he’s doomed. 

Eventually his heart slows down enough that he can consider sleep, but he does everything he can to stay awake. Katara is warm and soft where she presses into his side; his arm behind her head is totally asleep, but worth every second of her closeness. He fights it for as long as he can, but after a while he has to move to save his dead arm and get more comfortable. Katara goes still in his arms for just a moment before his bravery rears its head and guides his arm around her waist as he moves onto his side to face her. Soft brown hair and the scent of lilies flood his senses as she ducks her head, the tip of her nose brushing against his neck and small hands fisting lightly in his shirt making his heart rate pick back up all over again. The peak of her hip is a cresting wave that threatens to drown him, the dip of her waist the deep blue trough, and he tries to measure his breaths; it’s all he can do to stay afloat in the ocean that is Katara. Waves of curling hair roll out onto the thin pillow they share, smooth and shining in the moonlight that filters through the small, dusty window. He tries to commit every detail to memory, tries to brand the feeling of her body pressed up against him into his skin, tries to memorize each breath she takes and the tickle of her eyelashes on the underside of his jaw. Her heart beats a lullaby against his chest, soothing him into a gentle sleep and leading him by the hand into dreams filled with bright, glowing blue and fields filled with gently swaying lilies.

Xx

The morning sun brings with it a dry heat and hot cheeks. Zuko has been spoiled by waking up with Katara in his arms, and he knows that sleeping alone will be even worse now than it was before. The four Othered head out to rent their camels, and Zuko feels eyes on his back, the shady patrons of the Oasis’ bar and inn watching the group as they prepare to leave. They rent the only two camels at the stall, meaning they will have to ride two at a time. Getting onto the damn things is enough of an adventure to last Zuko for the rest of his life. He knows how to ride a horse, but this is totally different. The man working the stall helps Katara get situated in front of Zuko on the saddle before urging the animal to stand up. Zuko has to grab onto her waist and pull her torso to lean back with him so that she doesn’t fall off when the animal rises with its back legs first.

“Oh my god!” He can’t help but laugh at Katara’s terrified exclamation. “Shut up, you.” He hears the smile in her voice, and is suddenly nervous about riding through the desert with Katara seated  _ very _ close in front of him.

Toph yelps as the camel her and Aang are riding on rises, but Aang’s laughter rings out crisp and clear in the soft morning light of the unrisen sun. The guide relays the commanding words to the four of them, and just as the sun touches the horizon the group is heading off into the desert.

“Relax,” he tries to reassure her; the guide had suggested that Katara hold onto the handle in the front of the saddle, and that Zuko hold onto her waist with one hand and use the other to grip the handle behind him. “You have to move with it or else you’re gonna make us fall off.”

“Easy for you to say,” she relaxes minutely in front of him. “Since when are you the camel riding expert, huh?”

“I’m not an expert, I'm just not a chicken.” She scoffs and slaps his leg. “I’m just telling it like it is, Katara.” He loves teasing her like this; there’s something so natural about the simple fun they have, and if his teasing toes the line of flirting, she doesn’t seem to mind.

“Will you two shut up? I’m scared shitless and hearing you both having the time of your lives is gonna make me puke!” The two of them try to stifle their laughter as Aang does his best to ease Toph’s nerves.

By the time the sun has reached its apex, Zuko has had enough of riding on the animal. His ass hurts like it never has before, and as great as it is to have Katara so near, the sway of her body so close to his is  _ not  _ working to his advantage. He thinks it might be worth it, though, when she relaxes against his chest completely and closes her eyes. The camel ambles on below them, and he tightens his arm around her waist to keep her steady as the sun inches its way toward the horizon.

Xx

“We should be getting there soon.” Aang’s voice comes to him from behind where he and Toph ride on their camel. 

“Thank god,” Toph’s words are felt by all of them. After more than a week riding every day, he probably has a permanent bruise on his tailbone, and he’ll be glad to leave this desert far behind him.

“There it is!” Zuko looks back at Aang to see him pointing enthusiastically off into the distance, but when he turns back around-

“There’s nothing there,” Katara says the words before he can get them out, dread coiling thick and hot in his stomach. 

“No, it’s there, look!” He squints to try and see what Aang is talking about, and sees the slim silhouette of a tall spire.

“ _ That’s _ it? Are you sure?”

“Yup!” The spire grows thicker as they get closer, the strange obelisk out of place in the barren desert. “The rest of it is underground, but that’s definitely it.”

“Did you go inside?” Katara twists around to look at Aang as best as she can.  _ Think about Uncle’s feet, think about Uncle’s feet, think- _

“Not really, no. By the time I got here I had to turn right back around. I did peek inside, but I couldn’t see anything through the darkness.”

Once they get close enough, the four of them dismount from their camels with a collective groan, Zuko’s back popping when he twists to stretch his spine. The spire is huge, at least forty feet high, and there’s a tiny window at the very top that will act as their entrance.

“Wow,” Toph is leaned against the spire, her hand splayed out on the weathered sandstone. “It’s big inside. Like, huge. You guys will probably be in there for a while.”

“Will you be okay out here alone?” He remembers the mean faces and watchful eyes of the travellers at the Oasis.

“I’ll be fine. Just don’t take forever,” Toph waves him off, so he buries the anxiety he feels deep in his gut and turns towards the library.

“Aang, grab some rope and fly up to the top to tie it down. We’ll climb up behind you.” Aang nods and fetches the rope from his pack, coiling it around his arm before snapping his glider open and soaring into the sky.

“Don’t let the camel spit on you while we’re gone!” Katara quips, and Zuko fakes a cough to cover up his chuckle; Toph had tried to mount the camel on her own one morning and had been met with a fat glob of spit on her shirt.

“Shut up, Sugar Queen,” Toph does a good job of sounding put out, but he can hear the smile in her voice, and he knows Katara can too.

Aang waves a gangly arm down to them and they begin ascending the spire. He lets Katara go first, and when she gets to the top he heads up, wrapping some loose fabric around his hands and pulling himself up the rope. He casts one last glance at Toph down on the ground before following Aang and Katara down a spiral staircase, a small flame resting in his palm to light their way. 

After a while they get to the base of the spire, and the library opens up around them. Somehow the entire library is lit from the inside, even though the journey down the spire had been pitch black, but he barely has time to think about that before his mind is overloaded with information. The library is huge, bigger than he ever thought it would be. The scale of its grandeur reminds him of home, but instead of gilded hallways and armored guards, there are just shelves and shelves full of books. Columns stand sentinel in organized rows, and bridges span between one massive section and another. The depths of the library are visible through cutouts in the floor, but the true bottom is unknown and incalculable even from their high vantage point.

The stairs come to an end, spitting them out into what looks like an atrium of sorts. Thankfully there’s a directory in sight, and the three of them make their way towards it to see if they can find somewhere to look for information on The Source.

“Who are you?” The three of them shriek and jump in tandem, spinning around to come face to face with a gargantuan black barn owl. 

“We- uh,” he swallows around his nerves. “We’re travellers. We’re looking for the location of The Source.” The massive owl bends down, bringing it’s large, white face and unblinking eyes down to look at Zuko.

“You are gifted.” The owl’s beak doesn’t move, and it’s ethereal voice does not echo throughout the library.

“Yes.”

“Hm,” the bird straightens out, and Zuko lets out a shaky breath. “Why are you looking for The Source?”

“Someone is trying to destroy it. Or, they’re going to try to destroy it. We have to protect it.”

“Oh? Is that so.” Zuko gets the feeling that they are being analyzed, but the bird’s eyes don’t move. “I am Wan Shi Tong, the spirit of knowledge, he who knows ten thousand things.” The spirit bends back down to look at the three of them. “I usually don’t allow humans in my library. They tend to use knowledge only for destruction. How do I know that you won’t use any of the information you find for evil?”

“Please, you have to trust us. We just want to protect The Source and then go back home.” Zuko’s heart pangs at the mention of home, and he feels like the bird is looking straight at him. “We won’t even look at anything else.”

“Were you followed?” The spirit owl is still looking at him, suspicion somehow manifesting in his black eyes. “I am willing to trust you three, but no one else. Humans are disgustingly destructive, and there is no place for that hostility here”

“No, it’s just us and our friend outside.” Wan Shi Tong stands stock still for a long moment, and the three Othered wait with bated breath.

“Fine. You may look around, but don’t break anything,” he bends down closer to Zuko. “You better hope that no one has followed you.” The spirit twists in a swath of black and disappears without a trace.

“Well that was scary. Why was he so worried about us being followed?” Zuko ignores Aang’s question, thinking about the sketchy men that had their eyes on their group back at Oasis, and leans over to look at the directory.

“Alright,” he sighs. “I have no idea where to start.” The directory offers no insight on where they could find the information they need, and hope drains out of Zuko faster than he thought it possibly could.

“Wait, look,” Katara points down a hallway where two orange foxes are sitting and looking straight at them. One stands up and turns around, a paw raised as if it’s about to take a step. “I think they want us to follow them.”

“Sure, let’s follow the creepy spirit foxes, what could go wrong?” Zuko’s muttering goes unheard as they jog after the two foxes.

They’re led down two grand flights of stairs before one fox splits off and heads down through some shelves while the other keeps running forward.

“I’ll follow this one!” Aang doesn’t even give him and Katara a chance to respond before he follows the forward running fox, leaving them no choice but to tail the other one.

It weaves them through a few different shelves before stopping abruptly and sitting down in the aisle they currently occupy. Katara and Zuko catch their breath, and the fox runs straight up one of the bookshelves and disappears over the top.

“I guess this is where we start looking.” Katara nods at him, and they each pick one of the large bookshelves and start scanning the titles.

There’s way more books than Zuko could ever fathom even just on these two shelves alone, the titles in all different languages and fonts and colors. A book about the banyan-grove tree catches his eye, but he bypasses it, knowing that it probably won’t contain the information they need. They spend a fair amount of time poring over titles, and he’s only about half way through his shelf when Katara speaks up.

“Zuko?” She’s right next to him, absentmindedly flipping through the pages of a book.

“What’s up?” 

“Can I ask you something?” There’s something in the tone of her voice that makes him sweat, his nerves coming to life as she closes the book and slides it back onto the shelf.

“Anything.” She turns to look at him, her blue eyes wide and luminous as they stare into his.

“Why did you kiss me in that cave?” Blood rushes to his cheeks at her question, his feet going numb where he hopes they are still attached to the floor.

“I-” she doesn’t look angry or sad. If anything, he thinks that she almost looks…  _ hopeful? _ “Did you not want me to?”

“No- I mean, I know it was my idea, but,” her hands come up to play with the ends of her hair, a nervous gesture of hers that has become quite familiar. “When I kissed you again, why did you kiss me back?” His heart is pounding in his chest, the sound of blood in his ears deafening as she looks into his eyes.  _ Fuck it. _

“Because I-” he’s interrupted by a violent rumble, one so intense that books start shaking themselves off of the tightly packed shelves.

Their eyes meet and they both break into a run, Zuko’s confession pushed back in the face of what is unquestionably danger. Somehow they find their way back out to the main hallway, just in time for Zuko to run almost bodily into Aang as he lands in front of them.

“What’s happening?” The library is still shaking around them as Zuko shouts his question over the cacophony. “Did you find anything?” The three of them start to run towards the spiral staircase that they had used to enter, dodging books as they fall from the shelves, the repeating  _ thuds _ echoing in the massive space.

“Yeah, but it’s not much,” Aang answers. They’re about to ascend the first set of stairs when Wan Shi Tong appears behind them, his form warped into pure nightmare fuel, neck elongated and massive black form stretched out into terrifying wings.

“You  _ lied _ to me!” Rage rolls off of the spirit in waves, so powerful that it’s almost tangible, and it pushes them to continue up the stairs as fast as their legs will carry them. “You said that you weren’t followed!” A massive wing swings out and just misses them as they duck and continue running, books flying behind them as the spirit tries to catch up.

Aang sweeps his glider behind them and sends a strong gust of wind slamming into Wan Shi Tong, who is knocked over the side of the railing that surrounds the large gap between the library’s different sections. Air rips through Zuko’s lungs as he runs as fast as he can towards the spiral stairs, almost tripping in his haste as they skid around a corner. The sandstone stairs crumble beneath them with each step they take as they race to the top of the spire. Finally they see the light of day shining through the small windows they had come in; when they look out the ground is much closer than it had been before, and there are seven of the men from the Oasis trying to attack Toph, who is simultaneously holding the library up with one hand and blasting waves of sand towards the attackers with the other.

“Toph!” Zuko doesn’t think as he launches himself out of the window, landing with a roll and immediately spraying fire in a sweeping arc towards the men attacking his friend. 

He hears a few screams and knows that he’s hit his mark, and doesn’t slow as he punches plumes of flame towards two of the men who approach him wielding long scimitars. The ground quakes beneath them as the library sinks into the ground, the sounds of Aang and Katara fighting behind him mixing with the shouts of one of the men he just burned. The other is quicker, dodging most of Zuko’s attacks until he drops down and launches fire from his feet in a swirling arc and catches the man’s legs, pulling a pained howl from him as he falls to the ground. He looks around and sees the rest of the thugs already taken care of, most lying unconscious on the ground while a few others groan in pain.

“Toph, are you okay?” Katara runs up to an exhausted looking Toph, who Zuko now realizes had been holding up the  _ entire fucking library _ by herself.

“Yeah. Those bastards came out of nowhere! They rode up on those big animals, the ones that aren’t camels. Those bad boys are fast! I didn’t sense them until they were already too close.”

“It’s alright. What matters is that you’re okay,” Aang lays his hand on Toph's shoulder, and Katara pulls her in for a quick hug.

“Please tell me you guys got something useful from that stupid library.”

“Well, it’s nothing amazing, but I think I know the general location of The Source.” Luckily their camels hadn’t run too far away during the fight, and Aang is able to wrangle them back so that they can get the map from their supplies. “Here,” he points to the very edge of the south east corner of the map. “It’s somewhere around here. Supposedly there’s a giant sea monster that guards the only way in and out of the area. Someone somewhere must have heard about a giant sea monster, right?”

“I really hope so,” he’s so tired, and Katara’s question from earlier weighs him down like a lead blanket. “Let’s just get out of this fucking desert.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? throwing in the 'there's only one bed' trope? it's more likely than you think 😂 i hope you all liked this one! catch me googling "how to ride a camel" while writing this chapter lol. did anyone catch the little easter egg? there's a little nod to one of my all time favorite fics in here somewhere 😉 let me know what you think in the comments! next update on friday! ❤


	14. The Rendezvous

They arrive at Full Moon bay dirty and tired; it’s been months since they’ve stayed at an inn, and Katara would do almost anything for a real bed at this point. She’s sick of the ground and her bedroll and never having  _ any _ time alone. The best she gets is when she bathes, and even then she can’t  _ really _ relax; she constantly has her eyes peeled and her ears open in case of danger. After the group attacked them at the library, they’ve had a handful of similar encounters with groups looking to collect the four pairs of glowing eyes and turn them in for what Katara can imagine would be a massive bounty. But none of the thugs they run into expect the four Othered to be able to fight, and they’ve become sort of a seamless team when it comes to taking out their adversaries. Aang will sometimes use his air to boost Zuko’s fire into an explosive plume, either scaring off or seriously injuring anyone close enough to the action. Aang works with Toph and her newly perfected manipulation of sand to send huge clouds of the stuff into their enemies eyes, effectively blinding them for a short time, and Katara has used her water to create a rushing slurry of mud that she and Toph can manipulate to drag their attackers away. But Katara’s favorite fusion of gifts is when she and Zuko slam their elements together to create a burst of hot steam that never fails to catch their enemies unawares. She tells herself that her favoritism has nothing to do with Zuko, but she knows that it’s a lie.

Every night she wants to ask him to finish what he had started to say in the library, but she doesn’t dare ask him around the others. Even when they do end up alone for brief periods of time, she can’t muster the courage to bring it up. The question had been born of a random stroke of bravery, and it isn’t something she can manage to duplicate, not when the silence around them hides her from the reality that they’ll have to acknowledge at some point. Things had finally been back to normal between them (whatever their strange version of normal was), but her question had planted a seed of doubt, the uncertainty between them growing like an errant weed. They hadn’t even been this awkward the morning after they had been forced to share a bed in the Oasis, and that was when they had literally  _ cuddled  _ all night _. _ She’s dying to rest her head on his shoulder and breathe him in again, to curl up in the warmth of his embrace and listen to his drumming heartbeat under her ear. She doesn’t know what compelled her to rest her head on his chest in the first place, what spirit had possessed her and allowed her to act on her desires, but she’s glad she did, even if she’s haunted by the feeling of his ghost wrapped around her when she tries to sleep. His heart was a wild thing that night, thundering in his ribs like the mightiest of storms, and she hasn’t forgotten that fact even though it’s been more than two months. She’s starting to think that there might be an inkling of truth to Aang and Toph’s near constant insisting that Zuko has feelings for her, but the fear of ruining what they have now has her bound and gagged and unable to ask him about it again.

“You good, Sugar Queen?” She shakes her head, Toph’s words plucking her from her stupor.

“Yeah, just zoning out.”

“Well, look alive. We’re about to reach the ferry station.”

“Speaking of the ferry, how are we going to get tickets?” Aang’s concern is well founded, and something Katara hadn’t thought of until now.

“Don’t worry about that,” Toph waves them off. “I’ll take care of it.”

Katara and Zuko look at each other, shrugging in tandem as they continue towards the ferry. The four of them pull their hats down over their eyes as they enter the building, which is packed with people. Long lines stem from official looking booths where she assumes the tickets are sold, and people in shabby clothes mill about the large open space at random. Families congregate in clumps against the walls, children running amok and disgruntled parents shouting or chasing after them. The whole scene is pretty chaotic, and Katara is glad that she’s here with her three closest (only) friends. Being in large groups like this is strange for someone who grew up in a tiny village, especially when she had been ostracised and shunned to the outside of said village. The biggest crowd she’s ever been in was at the fight where they first met Toph, and that was nothing compared to the size and scope of this huge waiting room. The whole space feels liminal, like the blank space at the end of a chapter in a book. 

“You guys wait here, I'll get our tickets.” They watch Toph skip the line entirely, slapping something onto the booth and removing her hat when she gets to it’s head. Katara jolts at the bold move, but remembers quickly that because of Toph’s milky eyes, the glow isn’t nearly as pronounced as it is for the rest of them. She also isn’t looking directly at the fumbling woman working the booth, an action that won’t be questioned due to Toph’s blindness. 

“How did you manage that?” Toph walks back with a wide smirk, waving four tickets at them and punching Zuko in the arm when she joins the group again. “Ow.”

“I’m just that good,” she starts leading them over to an open space against a wall. “But really, I’m a Beifong. I can essentially get whatever I want in most places. I just had to show my I.D. and they handed the tickets right over!”

“Must be nice,” Zuko mumbles the words, and ignores Katara’s questioning look as he slides down the wall and sits on the dusty floor.

The ferry they have tickets for isn’t arriving until the next morning, and Katara watches three of them come and go before she starts feeling sleepy. So many people pack onto each boat, and Katara isn’t looking forward to trying to find a place to sleep while squished together with a bunch of strangers. Bedrolls are pulled out and arranged in a square with all of their stuff in the middle; she hates the thought of people stealing their things, especially since most of the people here look like they’re travelling with a family, but she understands the caution. Toph is snoring in a matter of minutes, and the sound of Aang’s even breathing follows shortly after. Sleep evades her, and Zuko hasn’t even laid down yet, sitting on his bedroll with a straight back, a sentinel for their little group.

“Zuko?” He jumps a little bit, turning around to look at her. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“Probably eventually, yeah.”

“Probably eventually?” Her brow raises. “What does that mean?” 

His hand combs through his hair before he turns his body towards her. “Someone’s been watching us.” A disembodied chill runs down her spine. “I just want to make sure nothing happens.”

“I can understand that, but I still think you should sleep,” in a fit of daring, she reaches forward and takes his hand in hers. “We’ll have to be more vigilant tomorrow on the ferry then we have to be now. Rest tonight and worry about whoever is watching us tomorrow.”

“You’re probably right,” he scrubs his face and moves to lay down, their hands parting slowly, molasses in her veins as she tries to stretch the contact for as long as she can.

Zuko lays his head down on the bedroll, hers laying perpendicular just inches away. The scent of cinnamon is a soft comfort as her eyes drift closed, the uninvited watcher forgotten for the moment.

Xx

Toph retches over the side of the ferry, her face pale and clammy when she straightens back up. “I hate this.”

“I found you some mint tea,” Zuko sits down across from her and guides the steaming cup into small, shaking hands. “It may not taste very good, but my uncle always said that mint helps with nausea.”

“Thanks Sparky,” the younger girl takes as strong an inhale as she can muster, tilting her head back against the railing with a sigh.

Katara is lucky that she’s been able to avoid the seasickness that plagues a fair amount of the ferry’s passengers. It’s been a few days since they left Full Moon Bay, and they are bound to dock in Ba Sing Se tomorrow afternoon, something Katara knows that Toph is anxious to do.

“So,” Aang wrings his hands in his lap on Toph’s left side. “What are we going to do once we get there?”

“We’re supposed to meet up with my brother and whoever he’s roped in to help our cause.” Six months is the longest she’s ever been away from Sokka, and her heart aches whenever she thinks about him.

“Yeah, but how are we going to find them?” Katara’s been trying to avoid thinking about it for as long as she can, the uncertainty a cloud just waiting to break overhead, made all the more tangible by Aang’s question.

“I think I have an idea,” Zuko is close to her right, the four Othered leaning together to not be overheard, and she does her best not to get flustered by his heat. 

“I’m all ears, hot stuff.” Toph definitely doesn’t sound like she’s all here, but there is a pinch more color in her face now.

“My uncle taught me how to play this game called pai sho, and-”

“I know pai sho!” Aang’s innocent excitement never fails to drag a smile onto Katara’s face.

“Please don’t tell me that we’re relying on an old person game to lead us to Katara’s brother,” Toph groans and squeezes her eyes shut.

“I wasn’t finished. He always told me that pai sho isn’t just a game. He taught me a specific technique, and if we can find the right place and the right person to play with, I think they might be able to help us.”

“Are you sure it’ll work?” She knows that Zuko has unwavering faith in his uncle, but… “It seems a little far-fetched.”

“What other options do we have?” His shining golden eyes peek out from under the brim of his hat, their radiance amplified by the bright sun lowering towards the horizon in the distance.

“Good point.”

Night comes quickly, deep blues and purples overtaking the bright oranges and pinks of the sun as the full moon takes her throne among the stars. They had managed to get their hands on a relaxing tea that allowed Toph to find respite in her sleep, and Aang dozes beside her, leaving Katara and Zuko to lean over the railing and stare out at the sparkling water. The sky is clear, the stars glittering on the dark surface below them, the moon gracing them with her soft light. Their glowing eyes are much more pronounced at night, their caution heightened by the added risk that comes with the number of people around them.

“Are we still being watched?” Zuko nods in affirmation. “Do you think they’ll do anything?” She really isn’t looking for a fight, especially one that will expose their identity so blatantly.

“I don’t think so.” She rests her head on his shoulder, hoping to blend in as just another loving couple.  _ I wish we were actually a loving couple. This would be so romantic if our lives weren’t in danger… _ “If they haven’t done anything yet, I don’t think they will now. At least, not on the ferry. I don’t know what they’ll do when we get into the city.” His arm comes up and around to rest on her shoulder, and he gives her a comforting squeeze. “Are you excited to see Sokka?”

“Yeah, I am,” she smiles against his shoulder. “But part of me is nervous, too.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know, it’s just been a while. I know I've changed, and I guess I'm just worried that… I don’t even know what I’m worried about, really.”

“Katara,” he takes her gently by the shoulders and guides her around to face him. “Sokka isn’t going to judge you or shame you or think any differently of you because of what you’ve been through in the last few months. Take it from a big brother,” he lifts her chin with his knuckle, the touch delicate and soft, so much so that she fears she might break it if she breathes too harshly. “There’s nothing you could ever do that would make him love you any less.”  _ I'm so in love with you. _ The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows them as he lowers his hand back down to her shoulder.

“Thank you, Zuko,” she’d be embarrassed by her tears if he hadn’t seen her cry a minimum of seven hundred times in the last month. A soft smile brightens his face, and his arms feel like home when he pulls her into his embrace. She tries not to imagine the words he said differently than what she had actually heard, but she has no luck.  _ There’s nothing you could ever do that would make me love you any less. _

Xx

The walls of Ba Sing Se tower above them as the grand city comes closer. It’s so tall that she can’t even see past it, the city itself nestled within a cocoon of rock.  _ I wonder if there are any Othered here. _ If there were, would they be pushed outside of the wall, left to fend for themselves? Would they even be considered citizens of the city if that was the case? The wall grows closer and closer, casting a dark shadow over the ferry as they approach the dock.

“Maybe they’ll be waiting for us at the dock!” Aang, ever the optimist, may be hoping for an easy time in the city, but Katara has a distinct feeling that they won’t be that lucky.

“I’ve never been as glad to be on solid ground than I am right now. Not even in the desert.” Toph’s face is already looking closer to its normal color as they exit the ferry, the dock here in the city leagues nicer than the one at Full Moon Bay. Tall columns extend to an ornately decorated ceiling, the walls boasting large paintings, beautiful tiles lining the floor and slapping under their feet. They walk through with their heads down, wary of the men in long, dark green robes and wide brimmed hats that line the walls, their stances official and commanding. There are cable cars that are designated as what transports people to the upper ring, although Katara isn’t sure what the upper ring even is until they step outside.

The city is extensive, spanning in all directions as far as the eye can see. Omashu is a glorified ant hill compared to Ba Sing Se, hordes of people crowding the cramped streets, shouts and conversations ringing loud over the hustle and bustle of the citizen’s daily lives. She can see from their vantage point that the city is tiered, walls blocking off the middle section from the lower, and the upper from the middle. Someone bumps into her and she remembers her feet, at least having the mind to concentrate on the steps as the group walks down to the streets of the lowest ring of the city. The upper rings had looked clean and fancy with paved roads and neat houses, whereas down here the roads are simply paths of packed dirt with litter pooling in little puddles along it. Zuko leads them through the throng of people, his hand in Katara’s, hers in Toph’s, and Toph’s in Aang’s so that they form a human chain to ensure that they don’t get separated. Katara has no idea how Zuko knows where to go, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have an idea either. 

After ambling through the dirty streets, they pile into a shabby noodle shop, the booth seat small and forcing them all to sit almost thigh-to-thigh. She tries to ignore the heat emanating from Zuko sitting next to her to no avail.

“This place is huge,” Toph speaks around her noodles. “How are we ever going to find them in here?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko sighs and puts his bowl down on the wobbly table. Katara is feeling less and less confident about finding her brother by the second, hope draining from her face like the tea in her mug as she drinks it.

“We should have planned this out before we left,” she shares a regretful look with Zuko, realizing their mistake far too late to do anything about it.

“We’ll find him,” he talks directly to her, sympathy abundant in his sure gaze. She nods, unsure of how else to respond; she trusts Zuko, of course, but the task of finding her brother seems almost impossible at this point.

They wander around the lower ring until the sun has set, looking for something that she isn’t sure they will find. Most of the rundown inns have signs hastily hung on the door, “no vacancy” glaring at them from both sides of every street. It’s well into the night when they finally find somewhere that has a room, and she can’t even be mad that there’s only two beds available. The four get ready to sleep in a heavy silence, deciding that they’ll start their search early tomorrow morning. There’s no bickering about who shares what bed; she follows Zuko into the one he chooses and immediately curls into his side, craving his comfort and heat, counting on it to quell her nerves. A small pressure is relieved when he takes her into his arms, and a breath she hadn’t realized that she’d been holding escapes through her lips. Zuko turns into her, his arm circling her waist to rub her back.

“We’ll find him,” his hushed voice rides on the breath he exhales, their faces close enough that she can feel its warmth, but still too far away for her liking. “I promise.” She bites her lip to hide the tremble, blinking back tears as she nods, afraid to open her mouth lest the sob she’s holding back escapes into the night. “Come here.” His warm hand moves up and down her back as she shuffles closer to fist her hands in his shirt, pressing her nose into his chest and breathing him in deep. The smell of his soap has become such a comfort, the scent grounding and soothing, clearing her head and helping her to fight back the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. There’s no doubt in her mind that her bottom arm will fall asleep, but she’d be hard pressed to care about it at all given the serenity she finds in Zuko’s embrace. She wants to tell him how much she cares about him, how desperately she wants to kiss him at any given moment, how his laugh is her heartbeat and his smile is the rising sun, but she swallows it all, burying her love as deep as she can even though she knows that in the morning it will have sprouted again, bright and new and undying.

Xx

They spend days travelling in a group looking for some unspecified brand of pai sho player with no luck. Zuko has played at least four games a day since they got to the city, and none of them have panned out in a way that would help them find her brother. She sleeps in Zuko’s arms every night, wishing for more but not daring to ask for it. The pressure between them builds, tension a tripwire pulled taught between them, just waiting for one of them to trip.  _ Is six months long enough to fall in love? _ The answer must be yes, because there’s no other way to describe how she feels when he’s near, how he lights up her life like the fire he holds in his hands. Time moves too fast when they’re together, no matter how hard she tries to stretch it out, the hours feeling like minutes and minutes feeling like seconds, and she just can’t get enough of him. Sleeping next to him is the sweetest sin, the most desirable torture she could ever endure, and she never, ever wants to stop.

She snaps back to herself when Toph elbows her before she can trip over the threshold of yet another teashop. This one isn’t as run down as the others, the spaced bathed in warm light and the seats lined with cushions, creating a welcoming feeling that they had yet to find in the lowest ring of Ba Sing Se. There’s an old man sitting near the back at a pai sho table with his hands tucked into his sleeves, a pondering look on his face as his eyes flash to the group. Zuko heads right over to him while the other three sit down and order some tea, following along with their usual strategy. Katara watches their game over her cup as she sips her drink; a shrewd look stretchies over the old man’s wrinkled face as he and Zuko move their pieces around the board. She’s never seen pai sho played this quickly before, Zuko and the old man seeming to know the others' moves before they can even make them, anticipating and responding in what looks almost like a choreographed dance. After what is definitely the shortest game Zuko has played since they started their search, the two men tip their heads to each other in a stunted bow and dissolve into whispered conversation.

“It’s going well,” Toph’s ears are better than even Zuko’s, her lack of sight heightening her other senses. “I think this is what we’ve been looking for.” Katara and Aang nod to each other, the three of them ready to follow Zuko as he stands up and signals for them to join him and the old man.

The man doesn’t say anything when they get up to the table, but his smile is sincere and his steps sure as he leads them out of the tea shop and down the street. The dying light of the sun follows them as they walk, the last dredges of the day sliding beneath the horizon to make way for the darkness of night. They wind around the shabby buildings and merchants shouting in the streets, going off into an area that the four of them haven’t explored yet, before the old man leads them down an alleyway. A door looms at the end, a light carving of a lotus flower etched above the peep hole, and the old man knocks with an even cadence.

“Who knocks at the guarded gate?” The slot in the door slides open to reveal a set of calculating brown eyes.

“One who has eaten the fruit and tasted its mysteries.” She doesn’t have time to analyze the old man's strange words before the door opens and they are led inside. 

They pass through a foyer into a room that is surprisingly well furnished, lush cushions and smooth stained tables dispersed throughout the space. The door closes behind them, the sound of deadbolts clicking and locks closing making her spin around to eye the man at the door. They’ve taken a massive gamble by trusting a total stranger, and it’s a very real possibility that this man isn’t who he says he is at all.

“Welcome, young travellers. We were told that you would be coming,” the old man and Zuko bow to each other, and Katara sighs in relief. “We were surprised to hear from The Grand Lotus after so long. We assume that this means you are making progress on your journey?”

“Wait, what the hell is going on? How do these random old people know what we’re doing?” Katara is glad that Toph voices her concerns so that she doesn’t have to, even if she wishes the girl would be a little less crass.

“My uncle- and I guess, by extension, me- are part of a group called The Order of the White Lotus” Something niggles in the back of Katara’s mind at the name.

“We are a secret society tasked with ensuring The Source’s protection throughout the ages. Grand Lotus Iroh is one of our highest ranking members, and he sent out the call about six months ago that we should be expecting his nephew,” the old man looks right at Katara, “and some friends.” There’s an implication in his words that makes her blush.

“So you’re going to help us find Katara’s brother?” Aang is smiling bright next to her, his grey eyes shining in the warm light of the room.

“We know exactly where your brother is.” Hope soars in Katara’s chest. “He and the Kyoshi Warrior arrived in the city almost two weeks ago. We have housed them in a secure location while we awaited your arrival.”

“Wait, so Sokka is in on this white lotus stuff too?” She’s going to have to ask him about it when she sees him.

“Yes. That, or he at least knows enough to get in. We’ll arrange a meeting for tomorrow morning.” 

“Told you we’d find him,” Zuko nudges her with his elbow, a lopsided smirk sitting comfortably on his angular face. She can’t stop herself from throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close, and her stomach does an impressive display of gymnastics when he takes hold of her waist.

“Thank you, Zuko,” she’s thanking him for so much more than his reassurance, but the true depth of her gratitude goes unheard.

“Get a room,” Toph mutters just loud enough for them to hear, stomping the affectionate moment into the ground like a bug under her bare heel. Katara glares at her as she releases Zuko, and although she knows that it goes unseen, Toph wears a smirk that makes her wonder if the girl actually  _ can _ see it somehow.

Her spirits are high as they leave the White Lotus headquarters, her heart feeling lighter than it has in months, the desolation of before replaced by a warm optimism that rides along her veins. The streets are busy as they make their way back to the inn, and once they get back she curls up in Zuko’s arms feeling hopeful and optimistic. She slips into a comfortable sleep, and dreams of warm reunions and lotus flowers bathed in soft golden light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who do y'all think is watching them? 👀 i hope you all liked it, let me know what you think!! so, from now on I think I'm only going to be posting twice a week, just so that I can make sure that I always have something to actually update lol so my new schedule will be mondays and thursdays. so, see you monday!


	15. The Reunion

Katara’s leg is bouncing at a rapid pace, her fingertips red and raw due to the abuse she’s laying on her cuticles as she bites them. Zuko knows that she’s nervous about seeing her brother, but seeing her full to the brim with anxiety is a thorn in his heart. His arm moves of its own accord, his hand snaking over and wrapping around hers in an attempted gesture of solidarity. A shuddering breath escapes her, shoulders slumping with the laborious exhale, and she smiles just a tiny bit as he squeezes her small hand. They wait in the well furnished headquarters of The White Lotus, steaming cups of tea sitting on smooth, stained tables, heat escaping with every moment they go untouched. The silence is oppressive as they wait for Sokka’s arrival with bated breath, Katara’s anxiety permeating the group like water into dry soil.

A familiar knock at the door has them all jumping out of their seats as the same man who answered it yesterday steps into the foyer to answer it.

“Who knocks at the guarded gate?” The reply is too muffled to hear through the walls, but the sentinel at the door must like what he hears, because the sound of various bolts and locks clicking float through the room to their ears.

The pai sho man walks calmly into the room they wait in, followed by a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair and attentive, kind eyes, and behind her-

“Sokka!” He’s barely walked into the room when Katara launches herself into Sokka’s arms, almost knocking her sturdy brother off his feet with the force.

Zuko can’t see Sokka’s face with how he’s buried it in his sister’s hair, but he can see Katara’s shoulders shaking and hear her sniffles as the older man cradles his baby sister in his arms. A sharp pang hits Zuko’s heart like a bolt of lightning; will he ever get a chance to reunite with his own sister? Has she been corrupted by their father’s malice and cruelty in the years that he’s been gone? What new scars does she bear that should have belonged to him?

The woman next to Sokka looks upon the emotional scene with a soft smile and affection welling in her eyes, and whoever she is, her eyes betray how she feels about the other man. Zuko hopes that his eyes don’t betray him like that when he looks at Katara, but deep down he knows it’s a fruitless thought. As if feeling his eyes on her, the woman turns to Zuko, and after catching his eyes (she has a good poker face; it doesn’t change at all as she takes in the soft glow) she walks over and stretches her hand out to him.

“You must be Zuko.” He takes her hand in his, her grip calloused and strong. “I’m Suki.”

“You’re the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors, right?” He remembers his uncle telling Sokka that it would be a worthwhile endeavor to get the skilled group’s leader on their side. Suki nods, and Aang bounces on the balls of his feet.

“I’ve heard of the Kyoshi Warriors! They’re the strongest group of all women warriors in the world!” Aang sticks his hand out to Suki to shake, his radiant smile and glowing eyes shining with mirth. “I’m Aang. It’s great to meet you!”

“You too,” she chuckles, probably surprised by Aang’s general enthusiasm and peppy demeanor. “I’m glad my reputation precedes me.”

Toph appears at Zuko’s side. “What did you say your name was?” 

“Suki,” she sticks her hand out, seeming surprised when Toph grips it with a force that belies her strength.

“Toph.” Suki no doubt takes notice of Toph’s milky eyes, the glow just barely noticeable in the brightly lit room.

“Sokka,” Katara pulls her brother over to the group by his hand, her eyes puffy and cheeks red, with a beautiful smile the biggest Zuko’s ever seen making a home on her face. He can’t help that his lips twitch upwards at the corners at the sight of her so happy. “This is Aang and Toph. Their gifts are air and earth, respectively. Guys, this is my brother, Sokka.”

“Well, looks like the gang's all here!” Sokka sticks his hand out to Zuko, who takes his forearm like Sokka had shown him so many months ago. “Good to see you again, bud. Thanks for taking care of my sister.” There’s something in the man’s eyes, something shrewd and knowing, and Zuko doesn’t miss how Katara averts her eyes from their reunion.  _ Shit. _ “Katara, this is Suki,” Sokka gestures to his companion, and the two girls wave at each other. “She’s the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors! Isn’t that cool?” he lays his hand on Suki’s shoulder, and her face turns soft and open. 

“That is pretty cool,” Katara smirks at her brother. “Let’s sit down.”

The six of them move to the plush cushions around one of the tables, fresh hot tea being served as they do so. Zuko takes notice of how close Sokka and Suki sit to each other, and it looks like Katara does too.  _ He can get a girl in six months. Why can’t I work up the courage to do that too? _ He knows his situation is different, but his tongue tastes bitter where it sits heavy in his mouth. The taste washes away just a bit as he sips the warm drink, notes of jasmine carried in green tea helping him focus.

“So, now that we’re all here,” Toph sets her elbows on the table and rests her chin in her hands. “What now?”

“Okay, so, next,” Sokka pulls a worn map seemingly out of nowhere and spreads it on the table. “We have to head down here to meet our next contact.” He points to a small dot on the map. “Shu Jing. Our contact in Kyoshi told me there’s a man there who will get us in touch with the other warriors we need.”

“That sounds good,” Zuko leans forward and looks over the map. “Shu Jing is only about two weeks from here. Aang, where was The Source again?”

“Somewhere around here,” Aang points to the very south east corner of the map. “So Shu Jing is even in the direction we need to be going in.”

“Awesome!” Sokka lifts his hand up to Suki, who indulges him with a high five.

Zuko continues to examine the map. “There’s one thing, though,” he indicates a point past Shu Jing where a large river narrows considerably and splits in two. “The Serpent’s Pass is our only way to get to the other side of the river where The Source is, but look,” four of them bend closer to examine the spot he’s pointing to. “It’s tiny. And supposedly guarded by a serpent.”

“A what now?” Sokka’s blue eyes widen as he sits back on the cushion.

“A sea serpent. A giant sea monster, essentially.” Sokka’s brows raise high on his forehead, accentuating the lines that will eventually be wrinkles.  _ Especially if he keeps looking at me like that. _

“We can handle a stupid sea monster, no matter how big it is,” Toph punches one hand into the palm of the other in a show of strength.

“Plus, we don’t even know if it actually exists,” Aang says as they sit back to allow room for one of the old men to bring out a tray of snacks, which Sokka immediately goes for.

“We should still be prepared,” Katara adds, and Suki nods in affirmation. 

“Definitely,” Suki stretches forward and grabs one of the puffy looking snacks on the tray. “But if we can find more warriors before we get there, that’ll be at least seven of us, four of which can manipulate elements. I think we’ll be okay.”

It seems to be enough to convince everyone, so Zuko aquises and joins the others partaking in the diminishing of the snack tray. There’s a million things going through his mind, not the least of which being Sokka and Suki’s playful flirting and unabashed teasing. Images of him and Katara sitting so close and being so openly affectionate flash in his mind along with a fresh wave of longing.

“Hey,” Katara nudges his elbow while the rest of the group listens to Sokka recount some wild tale from his journey. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just nervous,” he swallows past the lie, a hard lump in his throat made of all the things he wishes he could say.

“It’ll be okay. We can definitely handle it,” her smile is just for him, sweet and small.

“Just think about it,” Sokka talks around a mouthful of food. “In just a few months this will all be over!” Zuko knows that he means it in a good way, but a weary hush blankets over the group.

He doesn’t want to think about separating from Katara, or from the only real friends he’s ever had. What’s he going to do when he’s all alone again? After six months of travelling with at least one other person, he’s realized how much he missed having other people around, how much he missed simple platonic touch and goofing off and having fun with people his age. For the past three years the closest interactions he’s had with anyone even close to his age were brief and shallow, and he doesn’t want to go back to that. This motley crew feels like family, and he doesn’t want them to be ripped apart like his real family. Sadness wells in his gut, but he buries it with tea and snacks until it fades enough that he can breathe again.

Xx

They spend the day compiling a list of supplies that need restocking and poring over the map to find the best route to their next destination. Zuko falls right back into that easy almost-friendship he had with Sokka back when he had started helping the man with his swordsmanship. Sokka is highly logical, even if he is goofy, and Zuko can respect his out of the box but somehow still practical way of thinking. The list grows long, and they keep going back and crossing off things that aren’t necessary and adding things they’ve forgotten. The parchment is a mess by the time they’re done, but it’s a comprehensive list that they think covers all of their needs. It’ll be easier to carry more stuff now that they’re six people in their group, but everyone also carries things of their own; they spend a fair amount of time deciding how to divide the weight between them all, taking into account everyone’s carrying capacities and how long they’ll be walking for. Sokka is a natural leader, and clearly likes to think things through as much as possible, and Zuko, in this instance, is glad for the guidance. 

“So,” Sokka is munching on the remains of their evening meal as they sit at a low table. The others have spread out through the White Lotus’ base to relax, leaving just Zuko and Sokka in the main room. “How’s travelling with my sister been?”

“Good,” the sharp taste of ginger and lemongrass fill his mouth as he sips the hot tea. “She’s gotten a lot better with the short sword, and has pretty much mastered using her water for combat.”

“Good.” Sokka is looking at him strangely, but Zuko keeps his head down to avoid his gaze. “So you guys get along well?”

“Yes?” Sweat starts to bead on the back of his neck.

“Good.” He leaves it at that, and Zuko’s mind reels as he ponders the purpose of Sokka’s vague questions. “Well, I better go find Suki.”

“Are you guys… you know, together?” It’s not the first time he’s seen Sokka blush, but this time it’s accompanied by a soft smile that’s new to Zuko.

“I mean, it’s not like, official or anything. But I guess so, yeah,” he shrugs and rises to his feet, his answer easy and light. “Why?”

“Just curious. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks man.” Sokka waves as he leaves the room, and Zuko tries not to be jealous of his friend’s happiness.

“Oh, here you are!” Just as Sokka walks out, Katara walks in. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Yeah?” his heart picks up it’s pace when she smiles. “What for?”

“Do I have to have a reason?” She sits next to him, and he curls his hand into a fist to keep from reaching out to her.

“I guess not.” He’s never really thought of himself as shy, but Katara makes him flush and trip over his words like he’s a clumsy teenager again. 

“Toph and Aang already went back to the inn.”

“Ah. We should probably head back too.”

“Probably, yeah.” They both rise and head out into the night side by side. He tries to ignore the fact that she had sat down next to him just to get up again a moment later, but he has no luck.

The evening is crisp and punctuated by a light breeze, the early fall air refreshing and cool on his burning cheeks. The streets are bustling with people, as always, although it seems that there’s a different feel to the air around them tonight. There are more lanterns lit than usual, more children running around the streets, the majority of them holding pinwheels and sticks that trail streamers behind them as they run. Looking around, he sees various flyers and signs posted on market stalls and buildings that line the street, and he squints to try and read what they say.

“What’s going on?” Katara’s head is turning from side to side as she looks around the busy street.

“I think it’s some sort of harvest festival.”  _ That explains why all the inns are full. _

“Oh, that’s cute. I’ve never really been to a festival before.”

“Really?” His mind flashes back to paper lanterns and sparklers and his sister trailing behind him down a well manicured street. “They had a few every year back in Ember. When my mother was still around she would take Azula and I to some of them, but my father never wanted us to go.”

“My village didn’t really have any festivals,” she shrugs. “We celebrated the winter solstice every year, but I never went,” sadness leaks into her voice, something in him tightening uncomfortably at the emotion.

“We can walk around for a little bit, if you want. It’s still pretty early.” She beams at him, and his heart purrs in his chest like a lazy cat.

“Yeah?” Her eyes are alight with his request, and warmth floods his veins when he catches them. He nods, a smile growing on his face to match hers as she grabs his hand. “Oh, this is so exciting! Where should we go?”

“I have an idea.”

He leads her through the increasingly clogged streets, the sound of bells chiming and instruments being played materializing from the air as they get closer to the main drag. Her hand is warm and soft in his, and when he looks back her smile is dazzling in the warm lantern light, her blue glowing eyes full of wonder. Love swells in him like a tidal wave, his only anchor the one person he wishes he could drown in. The scent of street food wafts through the space on a cloud of laughter, sweet and spicy and salty all mixing together in the air in an enticing amalgamation of smells. The main street through the lower ring draws nearer, and loud music and bright lights come with it. They pull off their hats, uncaring of the people around them who seem to be too involved in their own merriment to care much about who they are.

An abrupt end to the crowd makes him stop short, causing Katara to bump into his back. The street is full of people dressed in bright clothes and wearing colorfuls masks, and he pulls Katara around in front of him so she can see the parade. He can’t see her face, but she’s practically bouncing on her feet with excitement, and his insides glow, an increasingly familiar tenderness making his bones dangerously soft. Maybe it’s the bright lights and lively music that gives him the courage to rest his hands on her slender shoulders, but the payoff is immense when Katara slides her fingers between his and leans back into him, and suddenly he doesn’t care where the bravery came from. He rides the wave and rests his chin on her head, breathing in lilies and lavender when the breeze weaves its way between the people around them. Small children cheer and screech in delight as shimmering wrapped candies are thrown into the crowd from the people at the tail end of the parade, and people quickly fill the space in the street as the parade moves ahead without them.

“That was incredible!” Katara’s eyes are shining and wide, stunning blue staring up at him matching her radiant smile.

“Do you want to keep walking around?” Soft brown hair bobs as she nods her head, her childlike wonder pulling a chuckle from him as he leads them in a random direction.

The sound of upbeat music puts him under a spell, his feet moving without his mind attached to bring them closer to the sounds of lutes and tambourines. A space opens up in front of them, couples dancing haphazardly without a care under a canopy of paper lanterns, laughter bubbling up from the rosy cheeked dancers. His heart beats in time with the stomping of the dancer’s feet, a pounding crescendo in his chest, and he turns towards a stall to find something to look at that isn’t Katara’s beautiful smile.

“Do you want a drink?” She turns around, her face open and trusting.

“Do they have any fun drinks?” His face breaks into a smile when she winks at him, and he pulls his hat on to purchase a drink for each of them.

“What did you get?” The hat comes off again; he’s determined to milk every ounce of the opportunity to be himself for once.

“I’m not sure,” he smells the drink in his hand. “It smells like whiskey and cider. Probably something special for the harvest festival.” They take a sip at the same time; the drink is strong, but the spice and sweetness of the cider mixes well with the whiskey, and it goes down smooth and warm in his throat.

“Oh, that’s good.” There’s no other word for the look she gives him but ‘devilish,’ her eyes turning his insides to jelly as she takes another sip, and he has to fight back the shiver that wants to trail down his spine.

The alcohol hits him almost immediately, warmth spreading out from his stomach through his body, his hand tingling where it’s somehow made its way back into Katara’s. They stand to the side of the group of dancers, and Zuko’s drink disappears faster than he realizes, leaving a warm fuzziness in its place. He sets the empty glass down onto a table full of other empties, Katara’s drained cup sliding next to his on the sticky surface.

“Dance with me.” There’s a slight flush to her cheeks, and she doesn’t really give him a choice as she pulls him out into the dancing crowd.

The band starts up a lively tune, and normally he would protest, but the alcohol has lowered his inhibitions, and honestly, he couldn’t say no to her in this moment if he tried. She laughs, bright and full as they move, twisting and turning without a clue of how to properly dance to the song that plays, but it seems that nobody around them is dancing properly either. It strikes him out of the blue, but suddenly he realizes that he’s having fun, something he hasn’t been able to have in a long, long time. Emotions fill his bones as they dance, Katara’s hands sliding through his when they part, her waist warm and firm under his palms when they come together. Her eyes crinkle at the edges, and her smile accentuates the laugh lines around her mouth, and she is more beautiful than he could ever hope to describe. A love like nothing he’s ever felt before fills his heart until it feels like it might burst, but all the pain is worth hearing her laugh and having her in his arms.

The music swells and he pulls her back to him, her hair fanning out as she twirls before coming to rest with her back to his front. Their chests heave in tandem and a long sigh escapes Katara as she leans her head back against his shoulder. His arm is still wrapped around her, their fingers still woven together and resting on her hip, and he’s just barely able to keep from wrapping her up in his embrace and losing himself in her. A soft smile sits comfortably on her face as the music slows, his lungs finally able to gulp down enough air as they sway in tiny movements.

“Are you having fun?” The voice that comes from his mouth doesn’t sound like his own; it’s low and rasping more than usual, the heady buzz spilling into his pitch and tone.

“Yes,” Katara’s eyes flutter open as she turns her head to face him, and it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do just to keep from kissing her right then and there.  _ I’m so lost in you.  _ “Are you?”  _ I love you so much. _

“Yeah.” Her lips are full and petal pink, and he knows he’s staring but he just can’t manage to tear his eyes away. The smell of spice and whiskey on her breath is intoxicating, and he wants to kiss it from her lips, to taste it on her tongue right here in front of all these people.

So, he does.

It’s better than he remembers; her lips are softer than they’ve ever felt in his dreams, her body pressed up against his sparking flames beneath his skin everywhere they touch. From somewhere her hand comes up and snakes into the hair at the base of his neck, the other still laced with his at her hip. He pulls her closer, wraps his other arm around her waist, and lets the world fade away around them. Addicting heat burns its way through his veins with each meeting of their lips, some mix of love and lust swirling in his blood and driving him crazy. 

Eventually the need for air is greater than their tipsy desire, and as soon as they pull apart he can feel eyes on them. Not from the other dancers; he doesn’t think that they could care less about two people making out in the middle of the dancing space. No, the weight is heavier, and the bad feeling it brings isn’t dampened by the whiskey and the beautiful girl breathing heavy in his arms.

“We should go,” he hates the hurt look in her eyes when he says it. “Someone’s watching us.”

“Oh.” He tries to convey to her in his eyes that it’s not some simple voyeur, but something more dangerous that is pressing them to leave, but he isn’t sure if she understands. “Okay.” 

He keeps a firm hold on her hand as he leads her back through the still bustling streets, trying to weave in and out as much as he can to throw off whoever was watching them. He’s not naive enough to think that they aren’t being followed, and he hopes that their roundabout route throws their pursuer off.

“Is it the same person from the ferry?” Katara is keeping close behind him, and her voice just serves to remind him of how much he wants to kiss her again.

“Probably.” Truthfully he isn’t sure, but it’s a safe bet that the same man is watching them. “We have to try to lose him before we head back. Hopefully he won’t follow us when we leave tomorrow.” He knows that it’s a foolish hope; if someone had found them in the massive and heavily populated lower ring, they had probably put in too much effort just to give up once they leave the city.

They take their time getting back to the inn, and Zuko is satisfied that their unwanted guest isn’t around when they duck into the humble building. His buzz is gone, the weight of the night falling on him like a heavy rain in its wake. _I can’t believe I kissed her again._ _What was I thinking?_ No matter how much he had wanted to, there’s a solid chance that Katara had only kissed him back because she had been caught up in the moment, or because the warm alcohol had clouded her judgement. In any case, it feels too awkward to bring it up now that the moment is over, and as loath as he is to simply forget about it, he knows that it’s what he has to do.

They’re quiet as they crawl into bed, his heart aching like a broken bone, but there’s nothing he can do but feel the pain and try not to let it show. They fall asleep facing away from each other, the space between their backs filled with ice and shadow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, throwing in an obligatory festival scene just for another excuse for a zutara kiss? who could have guessed that i'm a sucker for all the classic tropes 😜 but i hope y'all didn't think they were about to talk about that kiss... a relationship established in chapter 15 doesn't qualify as a slow burn for me lol BUT we're about half way through this story! it's shaping up to be around 30 chapters, but i still haven't finished thanks to school, so we'll see. let me know what you guys thought of this chapter!! next update on thursday ☺


	16. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no, not that kind of talk 😜

The six of them head out early the next day, pinks and purples soft in the morning sky ahead of the rising sun. Katara had counted herself lucky when she had awoken that morning to an empty bed, save for the ghost of Zuko’s lips against her own and the taste of whiskey and spice still coating her tongue. She can’t look too much into the kiss, afraid that she won’t like what she finds; he probably just got caught up in the moment. Or it was the alcohol that made him kiss her. Aang’s question from months ago runs circles around her head: _what would it take for you to believe me?_ One would think that kissing someone twice would increase her confidence, but there’s a little voice in her head that whispers doubts and uncertainties in her ear, and it won’t shut up to save her life. 

“What’s wrong with you this morning?” Sokka elbows her in the ribs, but she barely even flinches at the contact.

“What? Nothing.” 

His eyebrows raise high on his head. “I call bullshit. Something’s got you all messed up.” She loves her brother, but she wishes he was a little less perceptive sometimes. His voice lowers to a whisper even though they’re at the back of the group, “Did something happen with you-know-who?” 

“I knew it was a mistake to tell you about that.” Sokka had dragged so much information about her journey out of her the day before that she had ended up telling him about the incident in the cave. 

“Come on, little sister, you can tell me,” he rests a large hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “But if he hurt you, I’m-”

“Sokka!” Everyone but Toph looks back at them at her outburst, and her face floods with heat.

“Listen,” her brother waits until the group has turned forward again before continuing. “I don’t care what happened as long as it was consensual,” her blush gets impossibly warmer. “But, if you two can’t get your shit together, I’m going to shove you both in a tent and sew it up until you talk to each other like normal people.” Her arms cross in a huff, and Sokka’s hands fly up in surrender.

Thankfully he doesn’t bring it up again, but the awkward aura that surrounds her doesn’t dissipate. She can barely even meet Zuko’s eyes without her face flushing bright red, and she knows that the others have taken notice. _Why did I have to go and screw things up again?_ They haven’t spoken since last night, and the absence of his voice is making her itchy and uncomfortable, their usual easy conversation and light teasing replaced with a cumbersome awkwardness that she’d do almost anything to get rid of. But talking to Zuko about it just isn’t an option; if she brings it up, things could get even more awkward, and she might put their friendship in jeopardy by dragging the complications out into the daylight. At least this awkwardness will fade eventually, just as it had with their first kiss. _I can’t believe I kissed him again… what is wrong with me?_

“Hey.” Katara hadn’t even noticed Suki slowing her gait so that they could walk together. “You look like you need to get out of your head. Wanna talk?”

“As long as it’s not about my love life.” Suki’s brows raise at Katara’s grumbled words. She quickly changes the subject. “So, are you and Sokka a thing?”

“I guess you could say that,” Suki smiles, and a light blush dusts her cheeks.

“How did he manage to woo a girl like you? You seem so… put together.” Suki laughs loud and bright, and Katara can feel her mood lifting.

“I’m not nearly as put together as I seem, I promise you that.”

Suki talks to Katara for a little while, and she welcomes the distraction whole heartedly. She likes Suki; she’s confident and funny, and she seems like the kind of woman that demands respect, which is good for someone like Sokka. He turns around a few times to look at Suki, doe eyed and love struck, from where he walks at the front of the group with Zuko, who makes the mistake of turning around once, catching her eye, and hastily turning back towards the road. A tired sigh pulls from her lungs, and the group continues on like her heart isn’t bottoming out in her stomach.

The day stretches on for so long that it feels like weeks have passed before they stop for the night. The group sets up their things, and she can’t help but notice that Sokka and Suki seem to only have one tent between them. Memories of the nights she spent with Zuko in their cramped tent at the beginning of their journey come flashing back into her mind’s eye; the comfort she had given him after his nightmare, their late nate conversations in the dark, the sight of his dark lashes fluttering on his cheek as he dreamt on the nights that she couldn’t sleep.

“You good over there, Sugar Queen?” Toph’s voice beside her drags her violently out of her reverie.

“What? I’m fine.” She continues hammering the stakes through the holes in her tent.

“If you hit those stakes any harder, they’re gonna break.” She realizes that the force behind her hammering arm has been quite… well, unnecessary.

“Shit.” She almost feels like she wants to cry, the constant whirling of her thoughts throughout the entire day battering the inside of her skull and driving her anxiety up a wall.

“Listen,” Toph crouches down next to her. “Everything’s gonna be fine. You two always end up working things out, and you’ll work this out too. Just relax.” She’s glad Toph can’t see the shock on her face; she would never expect a pep talk from the queen of snark, and the sincerity of it touches her deep in her heart.

“Thanks Toph.” The other girl gives her an affectionate punch on the arm before standing back up and walking away. Katara takes a deep breath, swallows the confusion and guilt and heartache that have been choking her since that morning, and tries to treat her tent with a little more care as she continues to pitch it.

“Right, so,” Sokka claps his hands together to get everyone’s attention after they’ve finished setting up camp. “We need to practice working together as a team while we fight. You guys,” he points at the four Othered, “are probably already comfortable with each other, and so are Suki and I, but we have to be a cohesive unit when we fight all together. So we should probably run some drills.” Toph and Aang groan, and Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Sokka, can’t this wait until tomorrow or something? We’re so tired.” Katara desperately just wants to lie down in the silence of her tent and close her eyes for a few minutes. Or a few hours. Or a few days.

“We’re just going to be more tired tomorrow. And we’ll have to train then, too.” She hates to admit that Sokka makes a good point, and Toph flops backwards onto the ground, a cloud of dirt puffing up around her with the action.

“Let’s at least eat first,” Zuko looks just as tired as she feels, dark bags under his unscarred eye contrasting with his pale skin. “You’re hungry, right?”

“You got me there.” Sokka’s obviously more interested in food than anything else, and Katara silently thanks Zuko for distracting her brother enough to allow them to rest.

They chat a little during dinner, getting to know each other better with jokes and anecdotes and stories from their travels. She’s able to forget the aching in her chest almost completely, finding comfort and familiarity in the laughter of her friends and family. Sokka’s presence has done wonders for her mood; she hadn’t realized how much she had missed his lame puns and unwillingness to work. But it seems like Suki really has whipped him into shape, because he’s more involved with the cooking and cleaning than she’s ever seen him before, and Katara is filled with warmth at the thought of her brother happy and in love. _At least one of us can be happy._

Sokka drags Zuko, Aang, and Toph off to put together some practice dummies for their group training after dinner, and the group is soon huddled together in a loose circle devising a plan.

“Okay, Suki and I are close range, Aang and Toph are long range, and I’d say Katara and Zuko are medium range,” her eyes narrow at her brother, but he seems not to notice. “So I think working in those kinds of pairs tonight will be a good way for us to get a feel for each other’s styles and how we can best work together. Sound good?” There are no complaints from the group, although Katara is about ready to smack Sokka in the back of the head for pairing her with Zuko. Not that she doesn’t like fighting with him; on the contrary, their fighting styles compliment each other’s very well, but she doesn’t want to have to be close to him right now. She doesn’t think her aching heart can take it without bursting at the seams.

Soon the campsite is full of the sounds of battle, elements flying every which way, rock and straw dummies breaking and bursting in every direction. It doesn’t take long for them to take care of all the dummies; it had almost been too easy.

“Alright, that was way too easy,” Sokka’s voice is a mirror for her thoughts. “Maybe we should try something else. Toph,” he turns to the younger girl lounging on the ground. “Maybe you can make some more rock dummies and try to attack us with them. That way we can get a feel for actually fighting people.”

“Sounds good to me,” Toph hits the ground beside her, and a pillar of rock propels her into a standing position from her previous bed of dirt.

“We’ll switch up the teams too. First Suki and Zuko will fight, and then Aang and Katara, and we’ll rotate from there.”

“Do you want me to use my fire or my swords?” Zuko’s rasping voice births goosebumps all over her skin, and she does her best not to shudder.

“Hmm,” Sokka strokes an invisible beard on his chin. “Both.” Zuko shrugs and pulls out his swords. He and Suki take their place as Toph creates some dummies.

“Okay, go!” Sokka shouts their cue, and the two fighters get to work. Katara is quickly impressed by both of their skills; Suki is fast and agile, using two metal fans as her weapons, and her style compliments Zuko’s as he swings with his dao blades, occasionally shooting streams of fire from his feet, and even running flames along the edge of his swords in a powerful display of his gift. Toph throws dummy after dummy at the duo, and she can see them staring to sweat with the exertion as the fight wears on. The training ends when Zuko side steps just a moment too late and takes a hit to the ribs from a sizable chunk of rock; she flinches at the contact and the resulting wince that hisses through Zuko’s teeth.

“Alright, that was awesome!” Sokka looks positively elated as a panting Suki and Zuko walk back over to the campfire, tired but in good spirits due to their almost seamless teamwork. “Okay, Katara, Aang, your turn.”

Her and Aang work well together, but it’s not nearly as smooth and Zuko and Suki’s display. She chalks it up to her and Aang being less skilled in combat in general, but really she thinks that their styles just don’t mesh. Aang focuses on defensive moves as opposed to offensive ones, and Katara’s water works best to redirect the momentum of other’s attacks. Which means when Aang blows one of the projectiles out of the way, Katara’s attack misses and leaves them open for injury. They both walk off the field bruised and sore, and after Sokka and Zuko take on more of Toph’s dummies, they call it a night, all of them tired and aching except for Toph.

“You’ll get yours tomorrow,” Zuko assures Toph when she complains that she hadn’t been in on the action at all that night.

“Is that a challenge, Sparky?” Toph’s sliver smile cuts her face in two, the expression more intimidating than comforting in Katara’s opinion.

“Oh, it’s a promise.” Toph punches Zuko in the arm and they both laugh, the harmony sending a pang of jealousy reverberating through her bones.

The sky darkens in a gradient, shades of blue blending into indigo and royal purple, and the stars come out in droves, hundreds of them hanging above the group as they relax. The fire lowers slowly until all that’s left is embers, the soft glow throwing light and warmth at the six of them as they start filing off to sleep. Katara waits at the fire, dry heat cracking her lips as time passes minute by minute, her heartbeat ratcheting up each time one of her companions leaves until just her and Zuko remain. She’s been preparing for this for hours; she knows they need to talk, even if what he says isn’t what she wants to hear.

“Are we okay?” her voice is quieter than she wants it to be, but it still rings out in the night like a gong.

“Yeah, we’re okay.” She takes a chance and meets Zuko’s glowing eyes, and there’s a certain desperation in them, something she can’t quite put her finger on lingering around the edges and clinging to his lashes.

“Okay,” the word is hardly anything more than an exhale, and her shoulders slump with the loss of air. “Good.”

They sit in silence for a beat before Zuko gets up and moves to sit next to her. There’s more space between them than there normally would be, and it feels like those handful of inches have bled into miles. 

“I’m sorry.” Her brows pull down in confusion at his words, and she turns to see him staring down into his lap. “I didn’t- I shouldn’t-” she sees the words stick in his throat.

“It’s okay.” There’s that desperation in his eyes again. “It’s not- it doesn’t have to change anything.” The words are sandpaper scraping up her throat, blood on her tongue as they fall from her lips like stones.

“Right.” She can feel Zuko’s shuddering exhale like it’s blown right into her bones, and what sounds like relief in his voice feels like a swift punch to her gut. “Right, it doesn’t change anything.”

“Yeah.” Lead lines her stomach as the silence slides in around them like a dense fog. She hadn’t thought that talking to Zuko could possibly make her feel worse, but here she is. _If this is how it has to be, so be it. At least things can go back to normal now._

“I’m gonna head to bed,” she forces a smile that feels more like a grimace, only able to meet his golden eyes for a moment, unable to bear seeing her heartbreak reflected in the ever present glow. “Goodnight Zuko.”

“Goodnight Katara.” She wants there to be sadness in his voice, and she can almost twist his tone into something dejected and miserable.

The shy thing that acts as her heart shrivels as she lays in her bedroll, dry and numb and sensitive to the touch. It feels like in a quest to bandage herself, she’s only managed to rub salt into a heart shaped wound. She mourns that broken glass hope, unable to pry her hands open to let the shards fall, instead letting the blood pool and spill over as salty tears. _Get a grip, Katara. It’s not the end of the world._ She tries to look on the bright side; at least Zuko is still her friend. She still gets to spend time with him and laugh at his dumb jokes and bathe in the radience of his smile. _It’s enough. It has to be._

Xx

The vice in her chest eases as the days go by, but it never truly goes away. She’s able to look Zuko in the eye for longer than a few seconds, and they’ve started talking again like things are almost back to normal, even if it feels like she’s across the world from him no matter their proximity. A half-real smile sits on her face when they speak, and she wants to think that she isn’t imagining the dullness in his eyes, that his smile is actually smaller than usual when they talk, but she knows that she’s just projecting. Her pain is one sided, and every morning she drowns it in memories of shining gold and cinnamon smoke until she can take a deep breath without feeling like she’s going to break.

Suki pulls her aside one night while her brother and Zuko are off hunting, dragging her off away from the campfire where Aang and Toph laugh over their cups of tea.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” She should have known that she wouldn’t be able to hide anything from Suki; she’s got the senses of a warrior, and she picks up on _everything_.

“I’m okay.” Suki gives her a disbelieving look, and she feels her resolve disintegrating. “I talked to Zuko the other night.”

“Did it not go well?” Suki’s hand is a comforting weight on her shoulder, her eyes a soft hazel pillow for Katara to lay her worries on. 

“He apologized. And I just…” she rubs her face with her hand, trying to keep the tears behind her eyelids where they belong. “I said it didn’t have to change anything. And he agreed. And that’s it.” 

“Come here.” She collapses into Suki’s sturdy embrace, her tears flowing freely and soaking into her friend’s shirt.

“Is this what love is?” she pulls back to look Suki in the eye. “Is it supposed to hurt this much? I’m such a mess,” her laugh is choked and stunted, but Suki’s smile is kind and soft.

“Love can be difficult. Sometimes we love so hard that it tears us up inside, but that doesn’t make it any less beautiful. The stronger the pain, the stronger the love. Look at me,” Suki cups Katara’s cheeks and looks into her eyes. “You’re going to be fine. No matter what happens with Zuko. But I have to ask,” Suki takes her hand and guides her to sit down at the base of a tree. “What happened?”

“We kissed during our last night in Ba Sing Se. We were walking back to the inn and there was that festival going on, and we had a drink and we were dancing,” she takes a breath to cut off her rambling. “And we kissed. But after we just… didn’t talk about it. And then we went to bed and it was the next day and that’s it.”

“Wow,” Suki’s eyes are a little wide as she takes in what Katara’s just told her. “Well obviously you wanted to kiss him, right?” Katara nods her head. “What makes you think he didn’t want to kiss you too?”

“I mean, he literally just said that it didn’t mean anything, and-”

“Did he, though?”

“What do you mean? I just told you he did.”

“But he didn’t actually say that it meant nothing. He agreed with you that it didn’t have to change anything, but maybe he was just agreeing because he’s exactly as scared as you are.” She has to admit that it’s something she hadn’t even thought of, whether out of fear or ignorance, she isn’t sure. “Sometimes you have to read between the lines, Katara. I can’t tell you what to do, but I think if you actually told him how you feel, how you _really_ feel, things would go a lot differently than they did the other night.”

“But I can’t Suki!” she hates how desperate she sounds, hates the break in her voice and the weakness it betrays. “I can’t risk losing him entirely. It’s not worth it.”

“Okay, deep breaths, Katara.” The tears claw at the lids of her eyes, fighting for release into the open night air. “You do whatever you think is best.”

She groans, her heavy head falling down to rest in her hands. “We never even talked about our first kiss.”

“Your what?!”

“Oh, god,” she had forgotten that Suki wasn’t aware of what happened in the cave. “It’s a long story. We were trapped in a cave and there was this… legend or something, and we thought that if we kissed we would find a way out.” Suki’s eyes are blown wide with disbelief, her mouth open just enough for Katara to realize how ridiculous it all sounds. “Look, it ended up working, okay?”

“But you kissed then too, and didn’t talk about that one either?”

“Well, we started to, but we were rudely interrupted by a homicidal barn owl.” Wan Shi Tong’s terrifying body looms in her memory like a spiritual monolith. “And we just… never got to it, I guess.”

“No offense, but you two are the dumbest smart people I’ve ever met. Except for maybe Sokka.” The groan that crawls out of Katara’s throat is heavy and embarrassing, and she leans her head back against the tree trunk, a distinct _thunk_ sounding off at the contact. 

Xx

Exhaustion eats away at her bones, a quiet emotional ache buried in her very marrow after her talk with Suki. It had felt good to get it all off of her chest, but now she just feels drained and fragile. She nurses the bitter tea Aang had made them all (he isn’t very good at making tea, but nobody has the heart to tell him) as she tries to stay warm next to the campfire. It’s well into autumn now, and the night is chilled and dry, shivers coursing through her with the subtle breeze. Zuko finds her at the fireside (it seems that they’re drawn to each other, even now) and situates himself on the dirt next to her, the ever present heat that he carries staving off another shiver.

“Are we still being followed?” With the kiss on her mind nearly twenty four hours a day, she’s been ruminating on the mysterious onlooker that had _totally ruined the moment._

“Yeah, I think so.” He wrings his hands in his lap, and she has to tear her eyes away from his broad palms and long fingers.

“Is it the same guy from before?”

“I’m not sure, but probably,” his head tilts up towards the sky, and hers follows, glowing eyes drawn to the waning moon perched comfortably among the stars. “Sokka and I did a little reconnaissance when we were hunting the other day; whoever’s following us is getting close. They’ll probably make a move in a few days.” Her eyes fall back to her half empty mug, and despite Zuko’s warmth she shudders with the breeze. She feels his glowing eyes on her, so when he moves back to brace himself on his hands, she feels bold enough to move closer into his side. The scent of cinnamon and wood smoke clings to his clothes, the smell hitting her anew when he adjusts his arm closer to her back. “We’ll be fine; we’ve been training together and we’re all strong enough to handle him. Plus, there’s six of us now.” The smile on his face is just for her, small and soft and maddeningly sweet. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she feels her mouth tilt into a shy smile of her own. 

Their eyes meet, the ethereal sunbeam glow of Zuko’s shining bright in the darkness, rendering the fire dull and dreary in comparison. He has her under some sort of spell, something strong and commanding pushing behind her lips, frantic to meet his in a cosmic collision. But something wilts inside of her, her head a blooming flower suddenly deprived of water falling back towards the earth as she looks away. The silence that stretches between them isn’t as comfortable as it used to be, but in dropping her head onto his shoulder she feels some semblance of normalcy, and when she feels his cheek rest upon her crown, she remembers why all the heartache is worth it. _The stronger the pain, the stronger the love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they are so dumb, i know. i think we all feel a little bit like Sokka right now lol anyway, i hope you liked it and let me know what you think! next update on monday ❤


	17. The Ambush

  
  


“Seriously?  _ That’s _ what you two talked about?” Zuko’s head is cradled in his hands and dropped down between his knees as Toph berates him. “I can’t believe you two idiots.”

“Toph, don’t be mean.”  _ At least Aang’s on my side. _ “I mean, you guys didn’t really talk at all and you both came to the wrong conclusion, so there is that.”  _ Or maybe not. _

“Guys, please,” he looks up at his friends, their glowing eyes trained on his. “I know I’m a dumbass, alright? You really don’t have to keep telling me. But she said it didn’t mean anything, so what else am I supposed to do? I’m not going to push her, I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so… that’s that. There’s nothing else I can do.” Aang’s eyes shine with sympathy, but Toph’s just roll in her head.

“It’ll be okay Zuko,” Aang pulls him up by the hand and gives him a quick hug. “You guys’ll work it out. I know you will.” He wishes that he had that same faith in himself, but there’s just not enough confidence in him to scrape together into anything useful.

Aang and Toph head back to the tents, leaving him with his thoughts on the edge of their camp. His two friends had interrupted him in the middle of his  _ kata _ , but he doesn’t have the will power to start up again after their taxing conversation. Apparently he hasn’t been doing a great job of hiding his sour mood, and Toph had come to knock some sense into him, followed closely by Aang, whose kind words never fail to soothe the latter’s harsh truths. But how did they expect him to feel? He jogs farther out into the woods, his pace soon becoming that of an all out sprint before he’s forced to come to a panting halt next to a clear stream.  _ Why did I kiss her? Why did I have to fuck everything up again? _ He’s pathetic; his father had always told him such, and as much as he doesn’t want to believe it, it feels truer by the day.  _ Just get over it! Stop acting like a whiny baby! _ Tears sting his good eye, and he launches back into his  _ kata _ , anger and hurt fueling the raging flames that fly from his fists and feet. Emotion swells inside him, and just when he feels like he’s going to explode, he tilts his head back and lets it all out. A shout rips from his throat, a wounded animal lashing out inside of him, some pained combination of a wail and a roar dragging fire up from his gut and pushing it out of his mouth, propelling massive flames into the sky until his lungs scream for air. Pebbles crunch beneath his knees when he drops to the ground, but the pain doesn’t even register over the hollow ache in his chest.

Xx

The sun hangs heavy in the autumn sky, the yellow heat just enough to stave off the ever-present chill that rides through on the breeze. The group is relaxed as they travel along the beaten road, but Zuko’s senses have been itching all day, something lurking just on the periphery of his awareness tugging at his concentration. He knows that Suki is on alert as well, and through a series of looks he and Sokka had silently communicated the approaching danger. Whoever it is, they’re close, and they’ll be making their move soon.

“Something’s moving through the trees,” Toph says, and stops in the middle of the road, turning bodily towards the dense forest just off the path as she slides into a low stance.  _ This is it. _

He’s glad that he had spent so much time perfecting Katara’s reflexes all those months ago, otherwise the man that swings out of the forest would have barrelled right into her. In a flash there are more than a dozen people around them, having materialized from the trees faster than he could even keep track of. Zuko’s dao are in his hands in an instant, and he charges towards the man who had almost hit Katara. He prefers using his dao in tight spaces; fire isn’t nearly as controllable as a blade, and when the man turns around with two hook swords, he’s glad that he’s had years to train with them.

“There you are.” The man has a wild look in his eyes and a slit for a smile where a single piece of wheat sticks out from between his teeth. “I’ve been looking for you.” Zuko bats away one of the man’s hooks and tries to attack, but the man is fast, and he catches Zuko’s other blade and twists his own around it to knock his attack off course. “You know, there’s a massive bounty on your head.” He says it so nonchalantly, as if they aren’t trading blows with deadly weapons and instead are just taking a stroll through the woods. The man comes at him with a series of vicious horizontal cuts that has Zuko backpedaling as he parries.

“Yeah, I bet there is,” he feints right, and as the man shifts his body to follow, Zuko switches left, and just barely grazes his opponent’s leg.  _ This guy is good. _ “But you’re not getting it.” 

The sounds of his companions fighting their own battles permeates the air, grunts and clashing metal harmonizing with crashing water and crushing rock, a violent backdrop to the music of his own swords. The two men hack and slash at one another, the feral smile on his attacker’s face cluing Zuko in to the fact that this man absolutely intends to kill him right here and right now. They twist and turn around each other, taking turns advancing on one another as sweat starts to bead on the back of Zuko’s neck. The man clearly isn’t trained, but he’s wild and unpredictable, and he’s got Zuko on his toes, his friends fading away in the background as his attention is sapped by the fight. They trade blow after blow, and it’s not long before Zuko is bleeding from multiple shallow wounds on his arms and legs, the other man looking just as worse for wear. He finally knocks one of the man’s hook swords out of his grasp, but one of his own soon follows and flies off somewhere out of Zuko’s sight. 

“Just give up!” The man comes at him with powerful blows, and Zuko tries desperately to think of a way to stop the man’s attacks without killing him. “If I don’t kill you, there’s a whole army right behind me that will!” This catches Zuko off guard, and he’s just a second too late in jumping back, his hesitance resulting in the man’s hook tearing his shirt and dragging a shallow cut across his abdomen. His attacker lets his guard down for a split second in his hubris, believing that Zuko will be stunned by the superficial wound, but he’s made a dire mistake. Zuko takes advantage of the man’s misplaced optimism and surges forward, the heel of his boot connecting with the man’s ribs and shoving him to the ground.

“What army?” It’s hard for him to push the words out between his heavy breaths with his body sore and exerted from the taxing fight as he stands over the violent stranger.

“The King of Ember has his whole army mobilizing just days behind us!” The heart pounding in his chest stutters as the man’s words. “I can’t imagine they want you for the reward, but an easy death from me will be kinder than whatever they have in store for you!” His mind can’t keep up with the words the man below him is spitting, and in his confusion the attacker jumps up off the ground and twists his hook sword around Zuko’s dao, flinging it off to the side. “Now I’ve got you.”

Zuko narrows his eyes, his blood boiling beneath his skin, heart fueled by haunting amber eyes and a cruel smile, and as flames burst from his outstretched palm towards his assailant, the man’s eyes hold nothing but fear. His attacker’s scream splits the air, ringing out above the sounds of the dying fight around him. He hears his feet pounding on the dirt as he runs towards the man on the ground, but he feels nothing as he kneels to inspect the burn. It’s big, spanning across the man’s entire chest, but it’s not fatal, and Zuko’s lungs heave out a wobbly breath that contains all the relief he can muster. 

“Zuko!” Katara is running towards him, her hair trailing behind her like a thick veil. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding!” He looks down at the shallow cut on his chest; it looks worse than it is, but he remembers in that moment that it isn’t the only injury he’s sustained as various cuts and gashes begin to sting all over his body. Katara doesn’t fight with her blade, and thus doesn’t realize that minor injuries usually accompany a sword fight whether you win or lose.

“I’m okay, it’s not that bad,” somehow he manages to speak around the acid bubbling in his throat, but he feels like he’s going to vomit nonetheless.  _ He’s coming. _

“What’s wrong?” concern is etched into every line of Katara’s face, her dark brows pulled low over shining blue eyes. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“My- the King of Ember has his army following us.” Her eyes blow wide as the rest of their gang crowd around him. “This guy said they’re just a few days behind us.”

“Who is he?” Sokka looks thoughtfully at the attackers face as Zuko and Katara stand up.

“I don’t know. He said-” he takes a deep, shuddering breath.  _ I have to tell them.  _ “He was after me. There’s a bounty on my head.”

“A bounty? For what?” Aang’s shining eyes lock with his, and his heart lurches at the disappointment he knows he’ll find there after he tells them the truth.

“The King of Ember put a bounty on my head because I’m his son.” The only person he can bear to look at is Katara; her face is stricken, but the anger he thought he’d find there is shockingly absent. 

“He doesn’t want people to know his son is Othered.” It’s Toph that speaks first, and he thinks that out of everyone, she’s the only one that could even remotely understand his situation.

“Yeah,” he dares to look at the faces of his friends, but none of them seem particularly angry. “I found out about his plans to destroy The Source and threatened to tell everyone, so he removed me from the line of succession and banished me. I knew he put out a bounty for me when it all happened, but he must have increased it recently. He’s probably been tracking us,” he drops his head, unable to look at the only friends he’s ever had. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was wrong of me to hide the truth, but I didn’t think- I didn’t know he’d be tracking me. I put you all in danger and-” he’s cut off by Katara’s hands sliding around his waist and pulling him into her arms. Her hold is gentle, even if it stings his wounds, and he almost feels like he’s going to cry.

“It’s okay, Zuko,” Aang comes up by his side and rests a sure hand on his shoulder as Zuko returns Katara’s embrace. “You didn’t know.”

“Plus, even if your crazy dad wasn’t following us, we’d be in danger anyway. This whole mission is dangerous, but that’s what we signed up for,” Toph shrugs, shoving her hands in her pockets and aiming a lopsided grin in his direction. “I didn’t agree to join a travelling tea party, I wanted to go on a kick ass adventure.”

“What’s important now is what we decide to do next,” Sokka says as he tilts his chin down in a nod at Zuko.

“Wait, you guys aren’t mad at me?” The group’s easy acceptance of his lie is startling, and he can’t help but feel like he’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Zuko,” Katara pulls herself back just enough to look up into his eyes. “You didn’t know that he’d send people after you. We’re not going to blame you for something you were unaware of.” He has to blink a few times to push back the tears; all his life he’s been chastised and punished for every little thing he’s done wrong, every tiny misstep met with anger and and cruelty, and the lack of negativity from his friends is foreign and confusing. His eyes dart between Katara’s, glowing blue meeting shining gold, and the magnitude of his love threatens to claw its way up his throat and spill out from between his lips.

“We should dress our wounds and keep going,” Suki’s voice drags his eyes away from Katara. The Kyoshi warrior and Sokka are sporting a number of their own cuts, their skin and clothing both torn during the fight.

Katara insists on helping him bandage his chest (he tells her that he doesn’t need the help, but she refuses to take no for an answer), her cool water stinging the shallow cut as she cleans it. It’s a miracle that she doesn’t feel the thundering heart inside his chest, the storm he feels whenever she gets too close raging inside of him at the touch of her gentle fingers on his bare skin.

“You should be more careful.” Katara is stitching up a particularly bad gash on his thigh, working in the window created by his ripped pants as he does his best to think pure thoughts.

“You’re bound to get a few scrapes in a swordfight,” he winces, but she doesn’t look up from her work. “That’s the inherent danger of close combat.”

“Well, you should still be more careful.” His lips tug up at the corner of their own accord.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” She shakes her head, but still doesn’t look at him. “Are you mad at me?” Now she looks at him, her head snapping up to meet his eyes.

“Of course I’m not mad at you.” The unadulterated kindness held in her gaze is intense, so much so that he has to drop his head down to look away. “Zuko,” he startles at her touch, the delicate pads of her fingers barely ghosting his jaw as she guides his head back up to look at her. “It’s okay. We’re not- we aren’t like your father. We’re not going to hurt you.” He must be imagining the love written all over her face, the affection sketched into the crease between her brows, the tenderness housed within her luminous eyes. He wants to kiss her more than he ever has before, wants to lose himself in the intimacy of her gaze and melt into her so completely that he can’t tell where he ends and where she begins.

Instead, he leans into her embrace and breathes her in, and realizes that this is all he really needs, regardless of how much more he wants.

Xx

They arrive in Shu Jing a few days later with healing wounds and overzealous anxieties. It’s imperative that they find who they’re looking for as fast as they can; they’ve come to the consensus that the Army of Ember is probably following them to get to The Source. Their only hope is that they can get to it before his father’s army does, and hopefully set up some kind of defense to prepare for the attack. He tries not to think about the possibility of seeing his father in the inevitable battle, the uncertainty churning his stomach and birthing a bitter taste on his tongue.

If nothing else, the ambush and his subsequent confession had, for whatever reason, ironed things out between him and Katara. She’s been spending more time with him since then, their friendship returning to what it had been before Ba Sing Se for the most part, and he’s grateful to whatever gods have smiled down upon him. She’s magnetic, and he’s a man made of metal; he’s constantly drawn to her, and just being close to her makes him feel like he’s wrapped himself in a plush robe and curled up by the hearth to rest. Katara is a breath of fresh air in a world of ash, and he’s been suffocating his entire life.

They walk side by side through the unremarkable town, their four companions spread out behind him as their feet hit the road in a rhythmic dance. He’s not even sure what they’re looking for; their contact could literally be anyone.

“How are we going to find who we’re looking for?” He’s glad that Aang speaks up; sometimes he feels like he’s the one that’s supposed to have all the answers, and in this instance, he doesn’t have any.

“We can always go find an old guy to play pai sho with.” As silly as Sokka’s idea is, it does hold some merit.

He groans and tilts his head back. “I’m so sick of pai sho.” His protest isn’t meant for anyone else’s ears, but Katara smirks at him from her place at his shoulder, and he can’t help but smile back.

“Excuse me,” the group turns around as one at the voice of a stranger behind them, and comes face to face with an older looking man with a passive face. “I believe you are to be guests of Master Piandao. We’ve prepared some lotus cakes for you to enjoy during your stay.” Zuko and Sokka share a sideways glance and a nearly imperceptible nod, and they agree to follow the strange man, hearing the code shrouded in his innocuous words.

The man, who introduces himself as Fat, leads them through the town before turning onto a smaller path that leads up a modest hill. A beautiful castle comes into view as they ascend; it’s not huge, but it’s clear that whoever this Master Piandao is, he holds a fair amount of wealth. The grounds are extensive when they pass through the large gate that walls of the castle from the surrounding area, and he smiles at the look of awe painted on Katara’s face. Once inside the castle, the assistant leads them through an opulent foyer to a more relaxed seating area, where a polished man is standing with his hands behind his back. He’s dressed much more modestly than Zuko had been expecting, his simple robes merely lined with a shimmering gold to signify his status.

“Before you ask,” the man- Piandao, he’s assuming- holds up a hand to stop their predictable questions, “I am the contact The White Lotus has sent you here to meet.”

“Oh, good.” Zuko winces at Toph’s inevitable crass language. “I was curious why we were just wandering into some random dude’s massive castle for no reason other than rumored lotus cakes.” He’s surprised to see Piandao smile, just the corner of his mouth rising up in a genuine gesture.

“The lotus cakes were a signal, Toph. The White Lotus, Lotus cakes,” Sokka waves his arms around a bit to make his point, and Zuko has to stifle his laugh behind a cough.

“Yes, well, I do have real lotus cakes, so please,” he gestures to a comfortable looking couch, “sit down and I’ll have Fat bring out some refreshments.”

They all squeeze onto the couch, which is larger than usual, but still has Suki and Aang sitting on either arm rest. Of course, the rest of the group has made sure that Katara is sitting right next to him, and their legs touch from knee to hip, the contact sparking like static and making him hyper aware of her presence. Sokka reaches for the snacks as soon as they are brought out, and after a few minutes of silence, Piandao speaks.

“So, I hear you are in search of additional warriors to help your cause.” The six of them nod in tandem, Aang, Toph, and Sokka’s mouths still too stuffed with lotus cakes to speak. “Well, I think I can help you with that. I happen to know two very talented warriors, one of which just so happens to be Othered.”

“Wait, really?” Aang holds a crumbling lotus cake halfway to his mouth, the surprising information putting a pause on his indulgence. “Is their gift elemental like ours?”

“No, but it is no less useful. On top of the gift, this person is also skilled in a unique form of combat which I think will come in handy on your journey.”

“Are they here in Shu Jing?” Zuko asks. He’s excited to meet whoever this person is, but they’re on a tight schedule. “We were ambushed on the way here, and one of the men told us that the King of Ember has his army mobilizing just a few days behind us. We can’t afford to waste any time.”

“Yes, both warriors are here, although you’ll have to wait until later tonight to meet them. You’re more than welcome to stay the night here; I have plenty of rooms, and can provide a hot meal for you later on.”

“Oh, we’re definitely staying the night. No way I’m passing up a chance to sleep in a real bed.” They all chuckle at Toph’s enthusiasm, and Zuko is definitely looking forward to a proper bath and a good night’s sleep.

They take turns using Piandao’s washroom; he has this incredible contraption that directs water up through a pipe and out of a spout positioned high up on the wall, and when Zuko pulls on a rope the water comes crashing down to cascade over his body in rivulets. It’s not as soothing as a bath, but the water is heated with coals and feels positively divine as it washes away the grime that he’s collected on the road.

“Dude, that thing is awesome!” Sokka walks into the sitting area with wet hair and a bright smile. “I would have never thought to pressurize the water so that it comes out above you!”

“Listen Snoozles, don’t get all technical on us here,” Toph waves her hand in Sokka’s direction, trying to dissuade him from telling them all about the finer details of pressurizing water. “You know I can’t follow all that smart-people talk.”

“Explain it to me,” Suki grabs Sokka’s hand and brings him down to sit with her, and he starts babbling away about a topic that Suki surely knows nothing about. But still, she listens with rapt attention and a permanent smile, and Zuko feels jealousy twist in his gut. He’s happy for Sokka and Suki, and wants nothing but the best for them, but he can’t help but want the same thing for himself. His eyes find Katara across the room, sitting on a cushion sipping her tea with a soft smile, and sometimes he wishes he didn’t have a heart at all.

They wait for the two warriors with brimming anticipation, quivering excitement spilling over messily into their conversations, and as the sun lowers in the western sky, Zuko finds that his energy is becoming too much to handle.

“Aang, do you want to spar with me?” His younger friend always seems to have an endless supply of energy, and he can see the answer in his eyes before Aang even voices it.

“Sure!” 

They walk out to the large courtyard and settle across from each other in ready stances. Zuko likes sparring with Aang; it’s a good test of his control over his fire. It’s so easy for Aang’s blasts of air to fuel his flames, and he finds a strange joy in manipulating the already existing flames to work to his advantage. Underneath all of that, he likes spending time with Aang in general. He’s goofy and can be a little dense sometimes, but it feels like within the six months they’ve known each other that he’s gained a little brother. There’s an easiness to how Zuko can open up to Aang, and he appreciates it more every day.

“So, you and Katara seem like you’re doing well.” Almost every day, that is.

“Yeah. After that ambush we’ve been getting closer again.” They talk as they walk towards a bench on the side of the courtyard, their spar over and leaving both of them sweating but satisfied. They sit down on the hard stone as the last dredges of sunlight disappear under the horizon.

“She probably got scared because you got hurt,” Aang meets his eyes, the glowing grey looking almost silver in the dying light.

“I didn’t get hurt that bad. She’s just prone to taking care of people, that’s all.” He can’t indulge the wild fantasy in his head that Katara cares that much. It’ll lead to nothing but a sore heart and a sore head to match.

“Whatever you say,” Aang shakes his head, very obviously disagreeing with Zuko’s assessment.

“Hey, guys!”  _ Speak of the devil.  _ Katara waves at them from the entrance back into Piandao’s castle. “The warriors are here!”

They hustle back into the sitting room just in time to see a petite girl dressed in all pink walk into the room, chatting up Piandao’s assistant with a peppy voice. She’s slim, more so than that of the other women he travels with, but she doesn’t look any less strong. Her brown hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and wispy bangs rest above her glowing grey eyes. He looks over at Aang and finds the younger man’s cheeks tinted pink and eyes wide; Zuko's elbow to his side jolts him out of his stupor, and he clears his throat nervously. The girl in pink is followed by Piandao, who leads the second warrior into the gathering space.  _ Is that- no, it can’t be. Wait, it is! _

“Mai?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no, a cliffhanger! what do y'all think is gonna happen now that Mai and Ty Lee have joined the group? just to clarify, Zuko knows Mai from his past, but he doesn't know Ty Lee. she didn't grow up in Ember and met Mai later on. anyway, thanks for reading and let me know what you think! next update on thursday 😊


	18. The Warriors

“Zuko?” Katara’s heart does a strange swooping motion in her chest at the sound of his name coming from the strangers mouth.  _ How do they know each other? She’s really pretty… _

“What are you doing here?” Zuko doesn’t look particularly glad to see the woman standing before them, but a raging jealousy is making its way up Katara’s throat regardless.

“I live here. After I left Ember I travelled for a while before meeting Ty Lee.” The girl dressed in pink waves at them all. “And she brought me back here.”

“Have you seen Azula?” All the envy drains from her in a single moment at the pleading look in Zuko’s eyes.

“No.” His face drops like a stone, and Katara rests her hand on his arm in a show of comfort. “I haven’t seen her since I left.”

“Oh,” the word leaves his mouth as a sigh, and she can almost see the weight of his guilt sitting on his shoulders. She rubs his arm, and when he turns to look her in the eye there’s so much pain hidden behind the golden glow that it almost makes her want to cry.

“How do you two know each other?” Suki has no doubt picked up on Zuko’s distress, her perceptive eyes narrowed in his direction.

“Mai was a friend of my sisters. She grew up with us in Ember until she moved away… however long ago it was.”

“Seven years,” Mai says and inspects her nails, disinterest clear in her tone.

“Can I interrupt?” The girl in pink slides closer to Mai, her glowing eyes almost the same shade as Aang’s darting between the six of them. “I just- I’ve never met any Othered before, and it’s so exciting to meet you all!” This girl seems to be the complete opposite of Mai, and Katara wonders how they manage to get along.

“What’s your name?” She swears that she sees a blush on Aang’s cheeks as he asks his question.

“Ty Lee,” she responds as she practically bounds up to Aang and sticks out a delicate hand. “It’s nice to meet you!” Aang is definitely blushing now, and he looks to be almost in a daze as he shakes her hand.

“Yeah, you too.” Katara shares a half smile with Zuko at Aang's obvious bewilderment. “I’m Aang.”

“Your eyes,” Ty Lee gets right up in Aang’s face; she’s shorter than Katara, and the height difference between her and Aang is almost comical. “They’re so pretty!”

“Oh, uh,” Aang’s face is almost beet red. “Thanks. Yours are too!”

“Not another one,” Toph mutters from beside Katara. “Love sick idiots.”

“Oh!” Before Katara knows it, Ty Lee is  _ very _ close to her face, her smile bright and eyes wide. “Your eyes are so blue! Wow, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful!” Katara feels her own blush creep up her cheeks at the compliment. “And yours are so unique!” She’s inspecting Zuko’s eyes now, but she’s considerably farther away from his face than she was to Aang’s, even though the two men are almost the same height. “I thought there were four of you?”

“Yeah, I'm the fourth.” Toph blows at her bangs from the corner of her mouth.

“Oh!” Ty Lee walks up to Toph. “Can I see your eyes?” The younger girl keeps her bangs long to hide the dampened glow, but she pushes them back with a flush of her own. “Wow, that’s incredible! They’re so pretty!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Toph lets her bangs fall back into place above her eyes. “What’s your gift?”

“I can see people’s auras!” Silence permeates the group, and Katara sees Mai roll her eyes.

“They don’t know what auras are, Ty Lee.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry, I’m just so excited to meet you all!” Her smile is bright and contagious, and Katara’s mouth tilts up at the corners. “Auras are almost like… well, it’s hard to describe. I guess it’s sort of like your emotions, but not exactly. More like your energy, I guess. I see auras as different colors, so whatever emotions are dominating your mind is the color I see around you. Colors can blend if there’s a mix of emotions, and they can range anywhere for being opaque to clear, depending on the emotional energy someone has.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Suki says from where she stands next to Sokka. “Can you tell if people are lying, then?”

“Only if it’s a big lie, or if what they’re saying really contradicts their emotions. If I concentrate I can see more than just the dominating emotions, but it takes a lot of energy and tires me out pretty fast.”

“Oh! What color am I?” Aang asks, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Your aura is a pale yellow right now, which means that you’re happy! It looks like all Othered have a kind of shimmer in their aura, almost like silk when it catches the light. I never knew, but now that there are so many of you here, it’s an obvious similarity. This is so cool!”

“Oh, do me next!” Sokka’s hand shoots into the air as if Ty Lee can’t see him standing not ten feet away from her.

“Your aura is sort of a greenish yellow right now. So you’re happy, but you’re also curious!”

“Wait,” Toph moves her hand up into the air in a stopping gesture. “What did you mean by emotional energy?”

“Oh, well that’s like if you’re feeling emotionally drained or something. I guess a good example is right after people wake up, the cloudiness of their aura reflects on the dreams they had the night before. So if they had a bad dream, their aura would be cloudy.”

“Oh. I thought it was going to be cooler than that.” Toph sniffs and rubs her nose, unaware of the pout that’s formed on Ty Lee’s face.

“This is so boring.” Mai’s shoulders slump with a heavy sigh. “You all have elemental gifts, right? Why don’t you give us a demonstration? That should liven things up a little.”

They move as a group out towards the courtyard, but Katara holds Zuko back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” he scrubs his face with his hand, pushing his hair out of his eyes before continuing. “It’s just weird seeing someone from my past. And Azula…” He doesn’t have to continue for Katara to understand why he’s upset.

“It’s gonna be okay, Zuko,” she takes his hand in a bold gesture and does her best to still her raging heart. “After all of this is over, I’ll help you find her.”

“What?” His golden eyes hold an intensity she’s never seen in them before. “Katara, don’t say that. She’s probably back in Ember, and I can’t go there. You don’t have to help me.”

“I know I don’t have to,” she tries to match the energy in his eyes. “I want to. She’s important to you, and I want to help you find her and keep her safe. No matter how hard it is.” His eyes soften, hard gold melting into liquid sunshine, the lines on his face disappearing in what looks like awe, and what is definitely affection.

“Katara-” he’s closer than she had realized, so close that if he leaned in and she lifted up onto her toes-

“Hey!” Sokka’s disembodied shout splits them apart, Zuko’s warm hand dropping from hers right before her brother pokes his head out from around a corner. “Are you guys coming or what?”

She can feel blood rushing to her cheeks, and when she peeks up at Zuko from under her lashes she sees that his face is tinted red just like hers. He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous gesture of his, and clears his throat before making brief eye contact and walking away before she can manage to push any words out of her stubborn mouth. A deep sigh brings her shoulders down into a slump before she pulls herself together and heads out to the courtyard with the others.  _ Stupid Sokka with his stupid bad timing. _

Toph is putting on an impressive display of her mastery over her element while the others stand and watch from the sidelines. Ty Lee is bright eyed and openmouthed, awe clear on every part of her face, but Mai doesn’t look very impressed.  _ Maybe that’s how she is all the time.  _ Sokka has taken his place back by Suki’s side on one of the stone benches bordering the courtyard, and Zuko sits down next to Aang a little further away. She sees him nudge the younger boy's ribs with an elbow, to which Aang blushes and rubs his neck after shooting a shy glance at Ty Lee’s back. 

“Twinkletoes!” Toph’s voice startles Aang out of his daze, and he jumps a little next to Zuko. “Your turn.” 

Katara lets her heart guide her feet and takes Aang’s previous place next to Zuko. He turns towards her with a smile, the simple stretch of his lips enough to turn her heart into a hummingbird within the cage of her ribs. Ty Lee ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ at Aang's demonstration, but Mai’s face is placid as ever.

She leans over closer to Zuko and tries to keep her voice low. “Is she always like that?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Some things never change.” There’s a distance in his tone, his voice coming from somewhere farther away than where he sits next to her. 

“You guys should go up together!” A slightly sweaty Aang is walking back towards them with a massive smile on his face, and a mischievous look in his shining eyes. “It’s so cool watching you spar, you guys compliment each other so well!” Katara narrows her eyes at Aang, but he’s the king of faux-innocent meddling, and his face doesn’t change a bit.

“Yeah, give us a show!” Both she and Zuko turn to glare at Toph, but their frustration is lost on her.

“Oh, that sounds like fun! I’d love to see how you guys fight together!” Ty Lee may not know where Zuko and Katara stand with each other, but her plea has them rising and taking their places across from each other in the courtyard.

They don’t spar very much anymore; they work together for the most part, honing their skills to work better as a team, and there’s an electric charge spanning the space between them across the courtyard. A tense moment passes before either of them move, and her heart is beating like mad in her chest before she even takes a step. In the span of a breath Zuko has conjured his fire, flames stretching between his hands as he pulls them apart in front of his face before sending a fiery wave towards Katara. Water slides out of the skin at her hip with a twist of her wrist, a thick stream cutting the firewall in two and leaving space for her to run between the halves towards Zuko. Plumes of fire fly towards her one after the other as he punches out a volley, but she evades them by skating along a curve of ice that she freezes in front of her and melts behind her as she goes. She races towards him, her water snaking below her feet while balls of flame shoot past her in hot bursts, before surfing around him in an arc. Her movement is too fast for him to keep up with, so he drops to the ground and windmills his legs around, spraying fire from his feet in all directions. The ice below her hisses as it turns to steam, and she’s forced to jump and roll in order to land on her feet. She collects the steam before it dissolves into the air and hurls it at Zuko, freezing it halfway into sizable ice darts. With a shout Zuko creates a sphere of flare around him and pushes it out, melting her ice and forcing her back towards her starting point. Water elongates and stretches from her hands into massive whips, and they clash with Zuko’s own whips of fire blow for blow, sending steam into the air in hissing clouds, the collision of their elements creating a haze in the air above them. She waits until the perfect moment before sending one of her whips rushing along the ground, a writhing snake that she freezes up the length of Zuko’s body before he can react. Their eyes lock; the heat in his gaze is something she’s only seen in her wildest dreams, and it makes her sweat more than his fire ever has. The ice melts around him with his rising body temperature, his eyes never leaving hers, exposing her down to the nerve and making even the slightest breeze feel like a vicious gale. Katara catches the steam and uses it to knock his legs out from under him the moment his legs are free, and he lands hard on his back on the stone courtyard. Her chest heaves with the effort of drawing air into her lungs, and she sees Zuko’s rising and falling rapidly from where he lies prone on the ground.

“Wow!” Katara pants hard around gasping breaths, Ty Lee’s word of admiration overshadowed by intense desire and quickly draining adrenaline. “That was incredible! You guys really do compliment each other well.” Zuko lifts up on to his elbows to look at her, cheeks rose-kissed and lips parted with exertion; the urge to kiss him is an almost untamable thing, wild and thrashing in her very bones, and it’s  _ hot, _ so hot she thinks she might melt, and maybe she’s going to hell, but she  _ wants _ to.

“Okay!” Toph’s abrasive tone plucks her from her stupor, and Zuko’s polished gold eyes snap away from her and towards their loud friend. “That’s enough of that.” 

An invisible force pulls her towards Zuko, the tide coming in and dragging her with it until she’s standing in front of him. Something about how he looks up at her stirs a shivering desire in her gut, but she reaches out her hand to help him up before it can get the best of her. His hand is hot in her grip and his touch is nothing short of electric, charging through her veins and forcing the hairs on the back of her neck to mirror him as he rises. Their bodies are close, so close that she can feel the heat rolling off of him in shimmering waves, and try as she might, she can’t control the way her eyes trace the slight taper of his waist and the broad expanse of his chest. The lines that meld into the column of his neck are smooth until they hit the sharpness of his jaw, and when her eyes finally land on his face, she finds him staring right back at her.

Sokka clears his throat, and the tripwire between them goes slack as they practically jump apart. Her brother stands on the sidelines with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a single eyebrow raised, a smirk barely tugging at the corner of his lips. Suki doesn’t bother hiding her smirk, and neither does Toph, but at least Aang has the decency to pretend to kick an errant pebble around with the toe of his shoe. Mai’s face is blank, but even her brows are raised slightly, and Ty Lee’s glowing eyes are bouncing between her and Zuko as if watching them play a game of volleyball. It’s clear that whatever that interaction was between her and Zuko hadn’t gone unnoticed, and if her face wasn’t flushed before, it definitely is now.  _ I didn’t think I was that obvious… _

“Right. Well,” She fists her hands in the hem of her shirt, tugging out invisible wrinkles and smoothing imaginary imperfections from the surface. “That’s that, then.”

Zuko’s hand drifts up to its home on the back of his neck as they shuffle awkwardly off the courtyard, a stiff silence replacing the mist that had previously hung in the air as evidence of their spar. She hears Sokka strike up a meaningless conversation with someone, but her ears are full of cotton, her concentration altered by the residual excitement that’s making her fingers twitchy and her lips tingle. She wants to look at him, to see if the lightning is still sparking along Zuko’s nerves like it is hers, but she doesn’t dare. They walk back into Paindao’s castle as a group, and Katara makes sure to position herself away from Zuko, even if she isn’t listening to a damn thing anybody around her is saying. He splits off from the group before they get to the common area; she’s bewitched by the shifting of the muscles on his back as he moves, by the prominent veins in his arms when he clenches his fists. Her eyes definitely don't drift downward to the strong muscles of his thighs, absolutely not getting caught on the gentle swell of his-

“Yo, Sugarqueen!” A strange noise gets caught in the back of her throat before she can whip her head around to focus on where she’s going. “Damn, someone needs to get laid.”

“Toph!” She hates that the word is a screech as it leaves her mouth, and hates even more that Toph dissolves into an obnoxious laughter at her distress.

“Ew, can we please not talk about my sister and sex in the same sentence? Like, ever?” Sokka’s voice is surprisingly calm, and it boils her blood even more.

“I- will you guys stop talking about me like I’m not even here?!” she counters. Suki’s eyes are affectionate when she meets Katara’s, but there’s still amusement hiding in the tilt of her lips.

“Oh, sweetie, your aura is all muddled right now.” Ty Lee’s sing-song tone is grating on her sensitive nerves, the pet name far too familiar for someone she just met a few hours ago. “Maybe you should go lie down?”

“Alright, fine! You all suck!” the words explode from her mouth, having crawled up her throat like some desperate animal fighting to escape her grasp. 

Aang calls after her as she stalks away, but there’s no way she’s turning back to face the teasing of her friends. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that there was smoke coming out of her ears as she hustles through the halls of the castle; a volatile mixture of anger, embarrassment, and confusion roils in her stomach on her way to the washroom.  _ Maybe a nice hot shower will help me relax.  _ But it seems the universe has other plans for her, a shameless frustrated groan pulling up from her throat when she hears the already running water just a handful of paces from the door. She turns on her heel and makes her way to the other washroom as fast as she can, shoving thoughts of Zuko (who had definitely been in the shower) out of her mind with a ferocity that morphs into a pounding headache as she reaches the other washroom. This one only has a large, claw foot wash tub, not the fancy contraption that Zuko is using.  _ Stop thinking about him in the shower!  _

Steam fills the room as hot water rushes into the basin, and soon Katara is sinking into the cradle of softly scented warmth, the water rising until it stops just under her shoulders when she leans back. Her eyes drift closed, only for her to be bombarded by images of her and Zuko’s fight before she snaps them open again.  _ Stupid Toph. Stupid Sokka. Stupid Zuko and his stupid muscles and his stupid smile and his stupid, beautiful eyes.  _ Her groan is pathetic, less filled with anger and more composed of shame and a deep, stinging longing that refuses to give her peace. Bubbles rise from the surface as she lowers her head below the water, and she doesn’t rise again until her lungs are screaming for air.

Xx

Katara sits in the courtyard, the autumn chill seeping through her tunic as a breeze carries the sound of Ty Lee’s voice to her ears. “So… How long have you been in love with him?” The girl has a kind face, all wide glowing eyes and rounded cheeks.

“Listen, you’re really nice, but this is kind of none of your business.” Normally she has an aversion to rudeness, but after the day she’s had, it’s just too much to try and feign politeness. 

“You’re right.” Ty Lee sits down next to her and rests her hands between her thighs. “I just… you seem sad. And I know we know each other hardly at all, but I don’t like seeing people sad.” Maybe it’s the softness of Ty Lee’s tone, or maybe it’s the aching fullness in Katara’s heart, but suddenly she can’t hold it all back anymore.

“You know what? I am sad.” The words are lead as they fall from her lips, a weight off her chest but still heavy in her lap. “I’m happy, but I’m sad, you know?” Ty Lee nods silently to her right. “It just sucks. I just want to tell him how I feel, but I can’t risk ruining our friendship. He’s my best friend,” she sighs and her shoulders slump; she can feel a lump in her throat growing with each word. “He’s the first friend I’ve ever really had, and he means so much to me, even putting aside all the romantic stuff. I’m just so conflicted; everything is swirling around in my head all at once, and everyone keeps telling me he likes me too, but I don’t think he does, and then everyone teases me about it when all I want to do is scream and-” Ty Lee’s gentle hand on her shoulder breaks her warbling ramble. There are tears on her cheeks; the salty fluid sticks to the heels of her palms as she scrubs at her face.

“Katara, can I be honest with you?” The other girl’s voice is soothing, a salve for her sores wrapped in a neat pink package.

“As long as you’ll tell me what I want to hear.” The sounds coming from her mouth are more like hiccups than actual words, and a self deprecative chuckle mingles with the pathetic phrase.

“Listen,” Ty Lee turns her body towards Katara’s and takes both of her hands in hers. “I can see auras, right?”

“Yeah...” She’s a little confused, but plays along with whatever is it that Ty Lee is trying to get at.

“And auras tell me what people are feeling, right?” Katara’s nod is punctuated with a sniffle. “So you'd believe me if I told you how I think Zuko feels about you? Knowing that it’s based on indisputable evidence?” She would have never expected Ty Lee to be like this- calm, collected, perceptive, and surprisingly solid.

“I guess so, yeah.”

“Good. He likes you too.” Hope soars in her chest despite her efforts to tamp it down. “Like, a lot. When you two were sparring earlier…” she’s expecting to be made fun of, but Ty Lee’s face almost looks wistful. “It was beautiful. It was almost like watching a dance.” The ghost of spice and whiskey is heavy on her tongue. “I think if you guys could just talk alone, and be honest with each other, you’d both be so much happier. Your auras positively glow when you’re near each other,” she says, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “And not just because of the Othered thing.” Her lighthearted giggle is surprisingly comforting, and it pulls a reluctant smile onto Katara’s face.

“You think so?” She’s never felt so apprehensive but so hopeful at the same time; it’s a strange combination of emotions, one that has her stomach rolling inside her in a dizzying spiral.

“Yup!” Ty Lee says it so simply, like that one word encompasses all the conflicting emotions at war inside her, like it’s just that simple to pack her feelings away in a neat little box and hand her bleeding heart to Zuko and hope he doesn’t care about the stains.

“I don’t know, Ty Lee.” She tilts her head back and searches for familiar constellations. She doesn’t find any.

“Just think about it, okay?” 

The other girl doesn’t wait for her to respond, and she walks silently back to the comfort of the castle, leaving Katara out in the chill autumn air with only her thoughts and the unknown stars littering the sky above to keep her company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katara checking out Zuko's ass in my fic? it's more likely than you think! i had to include the obligatory spar of sexual tension. i hope you all liked this one, let me know what you think in the comments!! thanks for reading, next update on Monday!


	19. The Army

The next morning is awkward, to say the very least. Zuko tries not to think about Katara during breakfast, but there she is, sitting across the table and two seats down, her eyes glued to the mostly full plate in front of her. He knows their spar had been… well, intense (he had been beating himself up all night for losing control and looking at her like that, but who could blame him?), but he hadn’t thought that it would breed this strange distance between the two of them.  _ Right back to square one. _ Frankly, their clumsy dance around each other has become something of an annoyance; not Katara herself- although sometimes she frustrates him just like anyone else- but there’s  _ something _ between them, something undeniable and magnetic and  _ powerful _ . She has to feel it too, the way his skin is set alight when they touch, the almost tangible tension between their glowing eyes when they lock, the gravity that pulls them together time and time and time again, no matter how awkward things get.  _ It can’t just be in my head… right? _

“Hello?” Toph’s petite hand waves in front of his face from his left side. “Earth to Sparky?”

He shakes his head to clear his mind. “What? Sorry.”

Pale glowing eyes roll behind Toph’s long fringe. “We were trying to figure out what we’re going to do next.”

“The army has to be catching up to us.” Sokka’s mouth is only half full, a testament to how seriously he’s taking this threat. “We’re going to have to hustle if we want to stay ahead of them.”

“We won’t be able to.” All eyes land on Mai’s placid face. “They probably have smaller cells moving faster than the rest to head us off. There’s no way we can outrun them.” 

The silence that fills the room is suffocating, thick with thinly veiled fear and the ever present anxiety that they all wear like a winter cloak. It’s clear that Mai is being honest, no matter how little they want to believe her words; Zuko has seen Ember’s army, and even before he left home three years ago it was impressive. There’s no doubt in his mind that his father has probably beefed it up even more so for this mission, and the deep seated fear that Ozai himself is heading the force that races closer to them with each passing second hits him like a ton of bricks.

“Well, the sooner we get going, the sooner we’ll get to The Source.” Suki’s voice dispels the nervous cloud that had hung above them, at least for the moment. “We have to make it as close as we can before we run into the army.” Seven heads nod in unison, and when breakfast ends in silence, they all move to get ready to leave.

The only plan they have is feeling as sturdy as leaves in a storm, and they’re walking straight into the eye. Zuko prepares with shaky legs and hesitant hands; somehow it all feels more real now, like they’ve stepped over a threshold with no way to return. Not much has changed in the past few days, but over the past nine months all of their lives have been turned on their heads. He’s always known that this mission is his destiny, but he never  _ actually _ thought that he’d see it through. Now the future looms in the distance, something hulking and dark that can only be seen through a foggy haze, and he has to take a handful of deep, measured breaths before he can meet up with the others outside.

Ty Lee is the only one in their party who looks excited to embark; Aang is putting on a good show, but Zuko sees the lines at the corner of his eyes and the tightness in his jaw. Sokka and Suki talk with bowed heads off to the side, their conversation obviously private enough that he knows not to intrude. Katara stands alone with her back turned to the group, a gentle wind pushing her hair in waves behind her as she looks out over the town of Shu Jing. Her silhouette paints a beautiful picture against the backdrop of the rising sun, honey colored light bouncing off the lush curls of her hair and highlighting her heavy blue tunic. Winter is fast approaching, and the heat that radiates from his body gives him away as he approaches her from behind.

“Are you ready?” He isn’t sure why his voice is so quiet, but there’s something about the softness of the morning that feels like it might break if he isn’t careful.

“It feels different, doesn't it?” She doesn’t have to elaborate.

“Yeah, it does.” A particularly strong gust ruffles his hair, and Katara shivers next to him. He moves closer to her side. “We’ll be fine.”

Her eyes are bright and wide when she looks up at him. “Yeah.” Glowing blue shines under warm golden light; he doesn’t dare look away. “We will be.”

Xx

Mai and Ty Lee blend into their strange little family with surprising ease. For Mai it’s a little easier; she’s not very social, but she does seem to enjoy talking to Suki about various sharp objects, and her dry commentary (he wouldn’t go so far as to call it humor) meshes unexpectedly well with Toph’s no-bullshit attitude. Ty Lee’s bubbly attitude bodes well for Aang, and the two of them are like peas in a pod. Their blatant flirting would be cute if Zuko didn’t feel a twinge of petty jealousy any time Ty Lee giggles at one of Aang’s lame jokes; It’s just another reminder of what he can’t have. _ As if I need more of those _ . He’s made up his mind: he  _ will _ tell Katara how he feels. Eventually. As soon as they find some time alone. (He doesn’t decide this because he knows that there’s hardly a chance that they’ll get any alone time for the rest of the journey. That just happens to be the nature of their surroundings.)  _ It’s never going to happen. _

Sparring becomes very interesting now that Mai and Ty Lee have joined their group; Mai’s speciality is throwing knives, her arsenal made up of myriad blades hidden all over her body. Ty Lee specializes in a unique type of combat, utilizing her acrobatic skills (apparently she had been a part of a travelling circus for a while) in order to get within close range of a target so that she can hit a series of pressure points that render various parts of the body useless. The first time she had demonstrated on Sokka had been hilarious, the baffled look on his face enough to have the rest of the group dissolving into tears. Mai had even chuckled, something that Zuko hadn’t even thought possible until now. 

They’re slowly learning who works best together and who needs more practice, and it’s somehow been fun pitting all eight of them against each other. For their first scrimmage, all the elemental Othered, who work best at long range, had taken on the four close range fighters, and it was the most fun Zuko had had in a long while. At first he had thought that there was no way the four warriors would beat them, but Ty Lee and Mai worked seamlessly together, as did Suki and Sokka, and in an embarrassingly short amount of time both Aang and Katara had been knocked out of the fight, but not without taking Sokka with them. Toph had managed to get Mai, but Ty Lee’s aerial attack mixed with Suki’s agility eventually got the best of her as well. Somehow he had managed to bring Ty Lee down (he thinks it was dumb luck, but they’ll never hear him say it), and the resulting battle between him and Suki had been intense. If he had been able to use his swords it would have been a fairer fight, but Suki had eventually been able to knock him down, and Sokka had proclaimed her “the greatest warrior of all time” just to rub it in. Now he knows better than to underestimate his friends.

Underneath it all, his anxiety is eating him alive; it hasn’t been this bad since he was back in Ember. He knows that their journey is soon coming to an end, and there’s way too much for him to lose if this all goes south. Not only does he dread what will happen if they lose, but he’s dreading what will happen if they win, too, because that means splitting up. It means losing the only friends he’s ever had; Toph and Aang have become almost like younger siblings to him, and Sokka is essentially the brother he’s never had. Mai and Ty Lee haven’t made a big enough impression on him yet for them to feel like family. Suki’s endless strength reminds him of his sister, and she always knows what to say when he gets too in his head about Katara. And therein lies another problem: Katara. She had told him that she’d help him find Azula, but he can’t ask that of her. Azula is most likely back in Ember, and it’s not safe for any Othered there. Not to mention that Azula would be in the royal palace, and as good as Katara is at wielding her gift, there’s no way she’d get in and out without being noticed. No, he could never ask that of her, no matter how much he wants to see his sister, no matter that the thought of never seeing Katara again feels more and more like his heart being frozen in the cage of his ribs. 

They sit by the campfire, the eight misfits that make up his family huddled close together to stave off the permanent chill that marks the closing of the season. Steam rises from eight mugs of hot tea, red noses bowed close to the warmth, frigid fingers gripped tightly to the only tangible heat available. Well, except him. It seems that Toph, Aang, and Katara remember their journey through the desert (as if he could ever forget) and the cold nights that had branded him as a human hearth, and had communicated the advantage of his gift with the rest of the group. His seven companions have closed in around him, the physical contact warming something inside of him that’s been cold for far too long. Toph leans on his left side, her arm hooked through his and notched at the crook of his elbow. Aang sits with his back to Zuko’s right shoulder, with Ty Lee nestled comfortably between his legs and using his chest as a backrest. Sokka and Mai somehow share his back, theirs pressed up against his to absorb the heat that radiates from his core. Sukki is situated between Sokka’s legs, practically on his lap from what Zuko can gather, and he bumps up his temperature a little more in hopes that it reaches her. 

Katara, of course, sits with her back to his chest and is cradled by his legs, while hers are pulled up so that she’s as small as possible “to absorb more heat” (her words, not his). The scent of her hair is intoxicating, something a little less floral and a little more spicy than her usual soap, and there’s no escaping it when she leans her head back to rest against his collar. It’s too reminiscent of their drunken tryst in Ba Sing Se, the memories of pounding hearts and soft lips devoid of hesitance swirling in his mind and gaining force with each breath. He tries to avoid thinking about it, swallowing around the taste of whiskey and gripping his mug tighter to burn the feeling of Katara’s hands off of his skin, and it almost works. Almost.

“Anyway, he started yelling about his cabbages.” Zuko tunes back into the conversation to catch the end of Sokka’s strange tale. “And I said, ‘buddy, I have way more to worry about than your cabbages!” Suki chuckles, but she’s the only one that reacts to whatever Sokka’s joke was supposed to be. “What? It’s funny!”

He feels Katara sigh against his chest. “Sokka, your jokes suck.”  _ Good old sisterly love. _

“Hey, I resent that!”

“What about you, Sparky?” Toph nudges his ribs with a pointy elbow. “Do you know any jokes?”

“Not really.” He does his best to shrug under the weight of all his friends. “I mean, uncle told some jokes, but I can’t really remember any of them.” The group falls quiet.  _ Come on, Zuko, think! _ “There was this one joke. I don’t really remember the beginning, but the punchline goes, ‘leaf me alone, I’m bushed!’”

“It’s not really a joke if all you can remember is the punchline,” Mai says, and he hates to admit it, but she’s right.

“I don’t know, I thought it was kind of funny.” Katara’s voice reverberates through her core against his chest, the gentle rumble of a summer storm just waiting to break.

“Of course you did, Sweetness. Your sense of humor is terrible.” Katara scoffs at Toph’s words.

“It is not! Zuko, my sense of humor isn’t that bad, is it?”

“I think both of our senses of humor leave something to be desired.” She digs her elbow into his ribs, no doubt hearing the smirk in his voice. A wide smile pulls his lips across his face as he chuckles.

“Traitor.” She’s definitely pouting, but the amusement is clear in her tone. “I always laugh at your stupid jokes.”

“Yeah, that just proves my point,” he quips. Katara turns her head, and he can feel her smile in the cheek she has pressed against his heart. 

“Oh, I know one!” Aang jolts with excitement, but Zuko tunes out everything except for the feeling of Katara’s rising and falling breaths against him.

_ If she keeps this up, I’m going to die.  _ There’s no way that she can’t feel the staccato tattoo of his heartbeat, but her head stays right where it is.  _ I have to tell her.  _ He can’t handle her closeness if she doesn’t feel the same as he does. His blood is twitchy in his veins, his muscles cramping with the effort of keeping himself still under her weight, and it’s all just too much.  _ Damn the consequences.  _ If she doesn’t like him, he’ll lose the physicality that comes with their friendship, but at this point, he thinks that it might be an equal relief as it would be a disappointment.  _ I can’t do it anymore.  _ He’s dizzy with it, the overpowering emotions that make his hands feel numb and his ribs feel like they’re stuffed with cotton one moment and lead the next.  _ I have to tell her. I’m going to tell her. _

Eventually they all go their separate ways to sleep, and Zuko crawls into his bedroll, heart heavy with words unsaid.

Xx

“Hey Zuko, can I ask you something?” He and Aang have travelled ahead to scout for any possible soldiers, and the meager dirt path is hard and frosty beneath their feet in the morning chill as the two of them walk side by side.

“Go for it.”

“Well…” Aang moves to rub the back of his neck, but is stopped short by the thick, russet scarf that winds around it. “You’ve… been with people before, right?”

Zuko’s brow raises as he looks at the young man beside him. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific.”

“Like,” Aang’s mittened hands make strange, unintelligible motions in front of him, “you know, like,  _ been _ with someone?”

“What, you mean sex?” 

Aang’s already rosy cheeks somehow turn even brighter. “No! Not like that. Well, I mean, I know that happens eventually, but-”

“Is this about Ty Lee?” he asks, and Aang’s shoulders fall with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah. I like her a lot, but I just don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt like this before.”

“No offense, Aang, but I’m probably not the best person to be giving you advice on love.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Aang’s glowing eyes widen and his hands come up to cover his mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- well, I can’t say I didn’t mean it, but-”

“Aang.” He rests his hand on Aang’s shoulder and feels him relax. “It’s okay. I know I'm a lost cause.”

“It’s just, Sokka wasn’t any help at all. He kept telling me to ‘be aloof’.” Aang makes the motion of air quotations, but his mittened hands reduce the effect.

“Hm. Aloof… isn’t really your style.” 

“That’s what I said!” Aang exclaims, and throws his hands up in the air in a gesture of exacerbation.

“Alright, well, you guys keep telling me to talk to Katara, so I’d say that’s probably what you should do with Ty Lee.”

“But how do I know if she likes me back?”

“Ah, now you see my problem with Katara,” he says, and he can’t help but smirk at Aang’s sheepish face. “She likes spending time with you, right?” Aang nods his head. “Okay, that’s a good sign. And you guys have fun together?” 

“Oh, yeah.”

“Does she touch you a lot? Like, just casual touch, but more than any of the rest of us do?” Aang nods his head again, and Zuko tries to ignore the similarities between the behaviors he’s telling Aang to look out for and Katara’s behaviors towards him. “Then she probably likes you.”

“You think so?” Aang’s eyes glow almost silver against the backdrop of dark, bare trees.

“Yup. So you should talk to her. And even if-”

Zuko stops short and throws his hand out in front of Aang. “Did you hear that?”

Aang nods. “It came from behind us.” All the brevity is gone from his voice, and after sharing a hard look, they turn around and sprint back to the group.

Trees blur as they run, sounds of shouting and metal crashing getting louder with each pouding step they take. The air is biting as it enters his lungs, and he can feel his throat drying out from sucking in harsh breaths in order to get back to their friends. In just a few minutes they come upon their group, who are currently in the midst of defending themselves against at least two dozen soldiers. Their uniforms are dark, the color of dried blood and charcoal black blending together as the soldiers move, and their swords clang against the various weapons his friends are using in a cacophonous song.

Zuko conjures his fire and whips it out towards a soldier, batting the man away from Sokka and flinging him off to the side. There’s no time to talk; Zuko and Aang spring into action as soon as they get close enough to the fray, each of them floating around the edges of the fight and picking off soldiers wherever they can. He has to launch himself to the side to avoid a soldier flying through the air, pushed back by a hefty chunk of rock. The man falls to the ground on the edge of the trees off the path, and he doesn’t get up. Zuko knows that the stakes are getting higher as they get closer to The Source, and that the fights they engage in will start ending with more severe casualties. As it is, it’s extremely difficult to use a bladed weapon in combat and avoid casualties, and Mai’s throwing daggers are especially prone to killing blows. He tries not to think about the duty that sits over the group like a swollen cloud, and tries even harder not to blame it all on himself. There’s no way he could have done this all alone; he probably would have been killed before he even got to Gaoling. He’s incredibly grateful for his friends, but he knows for a fact that none of them will come out on the other side of this quest unchanged. They’ll all have blood on their hands by the end of this journey, and as Katara strikes the last soldier down, he sees that some of them already do.

“They came at us from the side.” Sokka wipes his blade on his trousers, dark red guilt leaving a streak on the fabric.

“I told you,” Mai says; she seems to be unscathed at least.

“Well clearly telling us didn’t do any good!” Toph throws her hands in the air with her shout. Her hair is beginning to fall out of the large bun she always keeps it in, but thankfully she looks unharmed.

“Guys,” Katara says with a tired voice, her hair frizzing out from the braid that lies draped over her shoulder. There’s blood leaking through a slit in her heavy tunic on her arm, and his stomach churns when he tries to focus on it. “Fighting isn’t going to help. Let’s just keep going and we’ll figure something out when we set up camp.” He’s drawn to her side, as always; there’s no blood on her that isn’t coming from her own wound, and a sweeping sense of relief rushes through him. The longer she can go without having to deal a killing blow, the better.

“She’s right.” Suki, on the other hand, is sporting a few groups of dappled red on her green clothes. She’s killed before; she trained the most elite group of all women warriors in the world, and he knows that she learned to accept death at too young of an age. 

Ty Lee nods in agreement, but says nothing. Her knuckles are tinged red, and he hopes that it’s just from the cold air that snakes its way under his skin.

They begin walking again, at a slightly faster pace despite the weariness that permeates the group, and Zuko makes his way towards Katara.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Her smile is tired, but genuine. “It’s just a scratch, really.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” He knows that she doesn’t need protecting, but that doesn’t erase the guilt he feels when he looks at her arm.

“It’s alright. We managed just fine.” There’s something guarded in her eyes, something she’s trying to lock away behind the glowing blue of her irises. “It feels more real now.”

“The closer we get to The Source…” he doesn’t finish his sentence; he doesn’t have to. Instead, he wraps his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay. We’re in this together.” Katara’s arm snakes around his waist and pulls him closer to her side. She says nothing, but tilts her head a little more into his shoulder, and he hopes that she finds some comfort there.

Xx

The rest of their walk is silent, save for the crunch of the diminishing path beneath their feet. They’re getting pretty far out now, far enough from any highly populated areas that the road is starting to look similar to how it does near Katara’s small village- broken and jagged from disuse. Their destination is somewhere that nobody has ever even been; the area where The Source resides takes up the very bottom right corner of their map, and there are no roads or villages near there as far as he can tell. Nevertheless, they continue on towards their destination, eyes peeled and ears open to hopefully anticipate any other attacks.

Luckily the army seems to have backed off for now, and they make it to a safe place to camp without getting attacked again. Immediately after they set up, he’s at Katara’s side to help with her wound. It really isn’t that deep, but at the very least his heat will keep her warm while she is without the heavier tunic she’s been wearing. 

“Thanks for your help.” Her eyes are soft when she looks at him, and he has to look down so that he doesn’t lose concentration on wrapping her wound.

“Of course.” He ties off the bandage.  _ There isn’t a world in existence where I wouldn’t help you. _

“Do you think we’ll get attacked again?” Now he has to look up at her, and he meets her concerned gaze with one of his own.

“Honestly?” he sighs the word, and she nods. “Yeah. It’s just a matter of time.” He hates the sad smile that stretches across her face, and hates even more that every cell in his body wants to move forward and kiss it away. “But we’ll be okay. It’s like I said earlier; we’re in this together. All of us.”  _ I won’t let anything happen to you. _

“Do you think we’ll be able to do it?” He hardly ever sees Katara scared; she’s incredibly strong, especially in the face of adversity, but there’s a flicker of fear in her glowing eyes.

Their eyes hold each other’s, and he hopes that she sees confidence in his, even if it’s artificial. “We have to.”

Xx

The campfire crackles before him where he sits with the rest of the group. The night is dark and quiet, the stars dim in the deep sky while the moon hides in shadow. Katara comes to sit next to him and hands him a steaming mug, which he takes gratefully, before she sits down and scoots up as close to him as she can get. Despite the cold, a sparkling heat blooms on his skin where she touches him, even through all the layers separating them. He might be going crazy, but it feels like Katara’s been more affectionate with him lately. It’s making his heart so full that it’s straining against its seams, and  _ damn _ does it hurt in the best of ways.

“Alright guys.” Sokka gets the group's attention, his serious tone enough to quiet any conversation. “So I’ve been thinking, and there’s only one way for us to get to the Serpent’s Pass without the army getting to us first.”

“What’s that?” Ty Lee’s voice comes from where she is curled up against Aang’s side, the two of them sharing a single blanket and the same curious look.

“We have to split up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did someone say cuddle puddle? it's me. i said cuddle puddle. i hope you all liked it! let me know what you think, and thank you for reading as always ❤ next update on thursday!


	20. The Split

  
  


“Split up?” Katara looks at Sokka’s stoic face with wide eyes. “What do you mean ‘split up’?”

“Exactly what I said.” He doesn’t sound happy about it; if anything, he sounds almost weary. “Our group is too big, we’re too easy to follow.” 

“He’s right.” Zuko looks down to meet her anxiety with soft gold. “There’s no way we’ll lose the army in a group this size. We’re an easy target right now.” The tension between her brows is straining- a harbinger of the headache she’ll have later tonight.

“So we don’t have a choice in whether we split or not?” Ty Lee’s voice is weak and small, and it’s clear that she isn’t a fan of breaking their group up either.

“It’s our best option right now.” Suki keeps her voice soft, but the way she says the words makes it known that the topic is not up for debate.

Silence falls upon the group, but Katara’s thoughts have never been so loud. The idea of separating from the group churns her stomach, and uncertainty crests like a wave inside of her. Zuko senses her anxiety (or maybe he can see it in the folds of her tunic and the curls of her hair, maybe it peeks out from under her lashes to shine out into the chill night) and lays a heavy, warm hand on her back. She melts into him and her stomach calms. Her head drops to his shoulder, the heat seeping through his clothes warming her cheek, and his hand rubs a soothing rhythm up and down her spine. 

“So,” Sokka continues with a heavy sigh, “I think it’s best if we split up into three groups. Suki, Toph and I will be one group. Aang, Ty Lee, and Mai will be-”

“No way,” Mai interjects. “I’m not being in a group with the peppy twins over there.” She tilts her head towards the two Othered.

“Mai!” Ty Lee looks stricken, and Katara is surprised to see Mai’s face soften as a result.

“Ty, you know I love you,” her face doesn’t look very loving, save for the slight upward tilt of her thin brows, “but you two are way too optimistic for me. I’d go crazy after three days.”

“Alright, fine.” Sokka scrubs his face with a tired hand. “Toph, you go with Aang and Ty Lee then, and Mai can come with us.”

“What,” Toph gestures with her arm in the general direction of Aang and Ty Lee, “now I have to get stuck with them?”

“What’s so bad about that?” Aang bristles at Toph’s complaint. It’s rare to see him frustrated, but Katara knows that it’s best to avoid getting him angry..

“Guys,” Katara says to quell the impending argument. “Why doesn’t one of you just come with us?” She assumes that her and Zuko will be travelling together, and as much as she may want to travel with him alone, she also very much does  _ not _ want to do that.

“No.” Mai and Toph answer in unison, their deadpan refusal drawing a strangled noise out of Katara’s throat.

She crosses her arms and pointedly doesn’t look at Zuko. “Okay, rude.”

“Nah, I’ll go with Twinkletoes and the ballerina.” Toph spits over her shoulder. “You guys aren’t that bad, I just wanted to rile you up.” Almost everyone groans at Toph’s antics.

“Now that we’re done playing around,” Sokka says with a pointed glare at Toph (who can’t see it anyway). She responds with a loud sniff. “We’ll have to reorganize our packs so that we can split up tomorrow morning. Katara, you and Zuko should go southeast for a while before turning back north to the Serpent’s Pass. Toph, Ty Lee and Aang, you guys should go north, and Suki, Mai, and I will go straight through. The three of us aren’t Othered, so if we get stopped, we have the best chance of getting away without actually having to fight.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Aang shifts under the blanket draped around his and Ty Lee’s shoulders. “But won’t this make the journey to The Source even longer?”

“We’ll have to ditch some of our stuff so we can travel lighter.” Sokka rubs his forehead with a tired hand. “Hopefully that’ll make up for some of the time we’ll lose.” 

“Better safe than sorry,” Suki chimes in, and the group nods. “We better get started if we want to be ready in the morning.”

The eight of them pore through their collective supplies, sorting things into different groups based on their importance. There’s only four tents between them, and Katara’s face gets hot when she realizes that she’ll be sharing one with Zuko for the first time since they found Aang.  _ If there are any gods up there, please help me. _ A burning anticipation makes a home in her gut, and every time she brushes Zuko’s hand with her own the fire flares inside of her and sends blood rushing to her cheeks.  _ At least I know I’ll be warm. _

The moon sits high among the stars when they’ve finally finished, and Katara retires to her tent, doing her best to enjoy the last night of solitary sleep she’ll get for a while. Part of her wants to stay awake, to stretch this time for as long as she can so that she doesn’t have to face the next morning and the rising sun in Zuko’s eyes. But an equally strong- and much more devious- part of her wants to fast forward so that she can feel Zuko’s heat as she drifts to sleep, so that they can share the intimate space like they had in the sandy room in Misty Palms Oasis or in the shabby hotel in Ba Sing Se. She can almost feel his hands on her back, his calloused fingers dragging along her skin when they had slept so close, but not nearly close enough. Her mind runs away from her, and instead of stifling her feelings and pushing them all away, she loosens her mental restraints and lets go.

There’s an itch in her veins that wants her to crawl into Zuko’s arms and map out his life in the lines of his hands, using the whorls of his fingerprints as a compass. She wants to slip under his skin and make a home in the spaces between his ribs, to curl around his spine and watch him shiver under her touch. She wants to count the stubbly hairs on his jaw with her lips and hear him call out for her in the newborn light of morning. She wants to trace each and every scar, to thread the needle and guide his hand as they stitch him up in all the places he’s ripped. She wants to lay with him under the light of the moon, to take all of their worries in their hands and throw them up into the sky and watch them shrink into glistening stars. She wants, she wants, she  _ wants,  _ and all she can do is hope that he wants her too. Katara has never been in love, and even if she had, she doesn’t think it could ever compare to what she’s feeling now.

Xx

The morning finds her groggy with heavy limbs and cold toes. She squeezes her eyes against the rising sunlight, but it seeps in through the corners no matter how hard she tries to stay in the dark. Crisp autumn air fills her lungs with a sharpness that comes along with the colder season, winter lingering just around the corner, and the invigorating chill prompts her to stretch and rise from her bedroll. At least keeping warm won’t be an issue when travelling with Zuko; they had all been taking advantage of his warmer-than-usual body temperature. A strange thrill swirls in her stomach when she thinks about being alone with him, and she presses the heels of her palms into her eyes in an effort to banish the troublesome thoughts.

She walks out of her tent not long after waking, finding all of her friends already rifling through their packs or sitting around the fire eating breakfast. Sokka shovels food into his mouth and uses his spoon to point to various places on the map for Aang; Suki and Zuko sort through supplies and make last minute changes to each party’s load; Toph sits between Mai and Ty Lee while they eat with her feet propped up on a raised dais of rock as she cackles along with Ty Lee’s giggles. Katara looks around at the hodgepodge group she calls her family and friends and tries to memorize each detail of the scene before her. It’s unlikely that they’ll all end up at the Serpent’s Pass unharmed, and she tries desperately not to think about what she would do if any of them didn’t show up at all.

“Hey.” In a blink Zuko is in front of her. “Are you okay?” The heat from his hand on her shoulder leeches through her clothes and warms her very bones.

“Yeah.” His raised brow is enough to tell her that he’s not convinced. “Really, I’m alright. I’m just nervous I guess.”

“It’s all going to work out,” he tries to reassure her. He keeps his face smooth, but she can see the tendrils of anxiety that curl behind the shining gold of his eyes. “We’re all a lot stronger now than we were even just a few months ago. We’ll be fine.” Some kind of gravity pulls her into him until her cheek is pressed to his heart and her arms wrap around his waist, and when she’s secure in his warm embrace she feels like everything might actually be alright. She counts the beats under her ear, the cadence even and warm, and commits the sound to memory.

They walk together to get their breakfast, sitting side by side with warm bowls cradled in already red fingers- well, hers are red at least- while the others chit chat idly around them.

“Hey Zuko.” Aang appears before them. “Sokka wants to talk to you.” The two men switch places, and Katara wills her eyes to unstick themselves from Zuko’s back.

“Are you excited to travel with Ty Lee?” she asks; she needs to distract herself, and she’s always had a knack for giving great advice to others (even if she can’t take it herself).

“I am, yeah.” Aang smiles, small and soft. “But I’m nervous too. I don’t really want to split up.” Wide grey eyes glow as they meet with hers.

“Me neither.” Both of their shoulders slump. “But we’ll be okay,” she regurgitates Zuko’s words and hopes that they sound convincing. “Plus, you’ll have Toph with you.”

“That’s true.” There’s silence for a beat. “How do you feel about travelling with Zuko?”

She should have known that he’d ask. “I’m… nervous. But a little excited too.” Aang returns her shy smile with more enthusiasm than she can muster. “I’ve been thinking about what you’ve all been saying to me, and I think I’m going to try to talk to him about… everything.”

“That’s great!” he exclaims, and she’s surprised that he manages to keep his voice relatively low despite his enthusiasm. “You won’t regret it.”

“Yeah.” She looks over at her brother and Zuko as they stand over the map, and is almost disturbed by how well she can imagine Zuko becoming a part of her family. “I hope not.”

Xx

They stand in their three groups, looking between each other with eyes bright with barely concealed anxiety. Even Mai looks a little nervous (she thinks that’s why her brows are drawn down by a quarter inch) after her surprisingly emotional goodbye with Ty Lee. 

“Everybody ready?” Suki asks and looks around, waiting for everyone’s affirmative before officially sending them on their way.

_ I’ve never been less ready in my life. _ She had hugged Sokka as tightly as she could, had done her best to commit the feeling of her brother’s broad arms around her shoulders to memory, but already she feels a gaping emptiness where his sturdy body had been just moments before. It’s harder to leave him now than it was back in their little village; the stakes are higher, the environment is more hostile, they’re actively being hunted down. The list of reasons why it’s different this time could stretch from here all the way back to her lonely home.

Suki clears her throat. “Alright.” Katara admires her strength, and tries to channel it as she takes a deep breath. “We’ll meet up at the Serpent’s Pass in about a month and a half. If not all of us are there in two months-” this is the part of the plan that Katara hates- “move on. We can’t afford to waste any time.” The declaration is sobering, even though they had all talked it over beforehand. There’s a steady beat of silence, filled with tension and nervousness and hesitancy. 

“Well, see you guys in a bit!” Ty Lee sounds just as chipper as always, but her smile is just short of big enough to be convincing.

They all wave at one another, and Katara turns her back to her brother before her smile falls along with the tears she’s wrestling back. She and Zuko walk south east, Sokka, Suki, and Mai continue on the path eastward, and Aang, Ty Lee, and Toph head northeast. Her steps falter just before her brother is out of sight, and his name springs from her lips without a second thought.

“Sokka!” She runs to him like they’re kids again, like she’s scraped her knee and she needs her big brother to kiss it better, like she ripped her favorite doll and needs to cry it out, like she’s running for her life and her mother’s life and it’s too late,  _ it’s always too late- _

“Katara!” His arms are already open wide when she slams into him, forcing him to take a step back with the force of their collision. Tears spill from her eyes and are absorbed by Sokka’s heavy tunic where her face is buried in his shoulder. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs against her hair, and pulls her out of his arms after she’s cried for a solid minute. He wipes her tears away with the calloused pads of his thumbs. “We’re all going to be fine. We’ll see each other at the Serpent’s Pass soon, okay?” She nods, the pathetic movement accentuated by a quiet hiccup. “And if that hot head breaks your heart, he’s going to have hell to pay.” Her laugh is watery, but it’s a laugh nonetheless, and it pulls a soft smile onto her brother’s face. “I love you Katara. Be safe, and be smart, okay?”

“I love you too, Sokka. And I will be.” They embrace briefly before separating again, and she turns around and walks back towards a patiently waiting Zuko with a heavy exhale.

She almost expects to see pity in Zuko’s gaze as she makes her way back to him, but his glowing eyes hold nothing but a staggering warmth, one she’d like to call love, but doesn’t dare. A warm, heavy hand rests on her shoulder, and she lets herself sag into Zuko’s heat as they walk off into the trees.

Xx

There’s no set path for them to follow; Zuko has nothing but his compass, their map, and the sun’s slow waltz through the sky to direct them to their destination. It almost feels like their first few weeks after setting out from Katara’s little village, aside from the bubbling anxiety in the pit of her stomach that is equal parts due to Zuko’s presence and to the reality of their quest. Twigs snap under their feet as they traipse through a lightly wooded area before emerging into a large field. Long grass sways with the sharp breeze, rippling with the windy tide as the two Othered make their way through. Katara’s hair whips around her face, getting caught in her mouth and covering her eyes; she tries to wrestle it into a braid, but the wind is blowing each section of hair apart before she can manage to collect the rest.

“Are you having trouble?” Zuko asks, and she realizes that she probably looks ridiculous with her hair tie clenched in her teeth and her hair wild around her face.

She grunts and gives up on the untamed tendrils. “Yes. Long hair is a bitch.”

“It’s definitely hard to handle sometimes.” He’s looking out over the field, and there’s a familiar distance in his glowing eyes.

“You’ve had your hair long?” An image of Zuko with long silky hair floats into her mind, and is banished quickly with the slap of more hair on her face. She brings her hands back up to attempt to get a grip on her hair again, her venture no doubt hindered by her cold stiffened fingers.

“I cut it before I left Ember.” He looks down at her. “Do you… need help?” The hair slips out of her hands as she loosens her grip and tries to wrap her head around Zuko’s offer.

“Um...” She fiddles with the hair tie before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so.” They stop walking and she hands him the strip of blue fabric that she uses to hold her hair back; she tires to still the shaking of her hands and the out of control heart thrashing around inside her ribs. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Zuko’s voice is a low rumble behind her, and she swallows past a heady mix of anticipation and nerves.

His hands start to gather her hair as it flies around her. A giddy heat blooms in her chest when he pulls some over her shoulder, and drips through her veins all through her body as he repeats the motion on the other side. His fingers brush the sensitive skin behind her ear, and she’s too slow to stifle the quiet gasp that escapes her lips. 

“Did I hurt you?” She’s glad that it’s almost winter, because there’s no way that Zuko didn’t notice her shiver as his fingers had ghosted along her skin.

“No,” she replies with a breathy voice, and she clears her throat before continuing. “No, your hands are just… really warm. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh.” His fingers twitch where they grip her hair at the base of her neck. “Right.”

It’s impossible to stifle the heat that pulses through her as Zuko works with the tie to secure her hair. Warm hands brush the base of her neck and her hairline behind her ears, and suddenly she is  _ very _ worried about sharing a tent with him for the next month and a half.  _ My heart will explode way before we get to the Serpent’s Pass.  _ He’s being so gentle, touching her hair like it’s something to be worshipped rather than tamed, and it does nothing to quell the fire in her veins that lights her up from head to toe. 

After the longest minute Katara has ever experienced, her hair is tied in a low knot at the base of her neck. Zuko steps away from her, and this time her chill is a result of the biting cold that hits her back in his wake. She can’t look at him straight on, but she manages to peek at him from under her lashes, and notes that his cheeks are flushed brighter than what is usually brought on by the cold, and his bottom lip is red as if he’d been biting it. She tucks this information away and saves it for when she has to work up the courage to tell him how she feels.

“Thanks,” she says with a shy smile. The one she gets from him in return swells her heart to such a degree that she worries that it may pop.

“No problem.” 

Xx

Her heart is pounding as she climbs into her bedroll that night. Zuko follows behind and secures the opening against the cold air; his heat is already filling up the small space, and she feels it even stronger when he finally lays down beside her. There’s maybe half a foot of space between them, but it might as well stretch for miles, and the distance floods with an invisible tension that threatens to snap at any moment. She feels almost paralyzed where she lays on her back staring up at the empty space above them. Zuko keeps a small flame alive in his palm while he situates himself, and before he can let it go out, the urge to speak claws its way up her throat.

She clears her throat. “Just like old times, huh?” She turns her head towards him and finds a small smile on his face.

“Exactly.” Gold eyes catch her own, the glow stunning and vivid in the darkness, brighter and warmer than any fire. They pull her towards him, and her body shifts onto its side without her even having to think about it.

“I can’t believe it’s been so long since we left home.” she catches herself as he turns onto his side to face her. “I mean, since we left my home.”

“I know. It’s been about nine months.”

“Nine months?” He chuckles at her incredulous tone. “Wow. I hadn’t realized that it had been that long.”

“I mean, I told you back then that all the days end up blurring together.” The tilt of his lips draws her eye before she can stop it.

“That’s true.” She doesn’t leave an opportunity for silence; she doesn’t want to let herself think too much while Zuko is this warm and this close. “It feels like everything’s changed.”

“Most things have.” He looks right into her eyes, and she hears the double meaning in his words loud and clear. “But it’s not all bad, right?”

“No, it’s not bad at all.” Her words are soft and quiet. It’s still dim in the tent even with Zuko’s fire, but she can see some level of anxiety in his features, in the tilt of his brow and the lines around his good eye. “As crazy as this whole adventure has been, I’m glad for it.”

“Yeah?” He sounds almost hopeful.

“Yeah.” She smiles, and the lines around his eyes smooth out. “I can’t imagine how bored I’d have been back home this whole time. Nothing exciting ever happened back in my village.”

“It did seem a little boring,” he quips with a growing smirk.

“Hey!” His smirk breaks into a full blown smile when she playfully whacks him in the chest. “Only I can talk shit about my village. It’s off limits for you.”

“Oh, is that so?” Something in his tone raises the hairs on the back of her neck and traces a chill down her spine despite his warmth.

“Yeah, it is.” Silence threatens to creep in around them, and she thinks fast to continue their conversation. “How long was your hair back in Ember?”

“Really? That’s what you want to talk about?” She nods her head and tries to stifle her smile at his deadpan. “It was down to my chest.” He makes a motion with his hand across his heart designating where his hair had stopped.

“Wow. I never pictured you to be someone who had long hair.”

“I had to have it long,” he tells her, and shifts so that his head is pillowed on his arm. Katara mimics his posture to get comfortable. “The royal family always wears their hair up in a topknot. It’s sort of like a symbol of status or honor. I had to cut mine off when I was banished.”

“Oh.” Her voice lowers. Somehow she always manages to bring up upsetting stories from Zuko’s past, and she’s determined to change the subject.

“It’s not that bad though.” She’s surprised when he continues on. “It’s much lighter, and way more manageable when it’s short. Although it does get in my eyes a lot more.”

“I think it looks nice short.” She pushes through her embarrassment after she sees the shy smile that graces Zuko’s face. “I think it would look nice long too, but short is definitely more practical.” She doesn’t mention Zuko’s intimate encounter with her hair earlier, but she knows that they’re both thinking about it. “Do you think you’ll ever grow it long again?”

“Maybe.” He shifts in his bedroll. “Everyone always told me that I looked like my cousin when my hair was long.” At Katara’s questioning look he continues. “My uncle’s son. He died when I was just a kid.”

“I’m sorry, Zuko. That’s awful.” Her brows pull together in sympathy, and she just barely keeps from reaching her hand out to hold his.

“It is what it is.” He shrugs, but his voice holds more emotion than he lets on. “I always liked it when people told me I looked like him, but I think my longer hair made me look more like my father.” The fire flickers in his hand, and he moves his eyes to somewhere over her shoulder.

“I don’t know what your father looks like-” now she does reach for his hand, and at her touch his eyes come back to meet hers- “but even if you do look similar, you’re nothing like him.”

“How can you say that?” There’s pain in his voice, and it deepens the lines around his eyes. “You don’t even know him.”

“I know what you’ve told me.” His hand twitches in her light grip, and she continues. “And based on that, I know that you’re a better man than he could ever wish to be.”

Zuko’s eyes are wide, and as he lets the fire in his palm wink out, she sees the beginnings of wetness pooling in the glow. He shifts a little closer to her, and she shifts closer as well and slots her fingers through his. It seems that he’s done talking for the night, and she understands why. Eventually her eyes slide closed, and right before she drifts off, she hears a rasping whisper slip into the night air.

“Thank you, Katara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooohhhh they're alone again! i wonder what's going to happen 👀 let me know what you think! next update on monday 😊


	21. The Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO excited to bring this chapter to you guys!!!! TW: there's violence and a fair amount of blood in this chapter. things get pretty dark near the end so be prepared.

The pack digs into her skin where it rests on her shoulder as they walk through the dense forest. The ground crunches with each step, frozen dirt and half-decayed leaves snapping and crumbling under tired footfalls in a wandering path leading mostly eastward. It’s been about two weeks since they left the rest of the group, and it’s about time that they start heading directly towards the Serpent’s Pass. They had run into only a few handfuls of soldiers, which Katara is taking as a good sign that they’ve thrown the army off by splitting their large group up. Zuko leads them towards their destination with his compass essentially fused to his hand, and she’s grateful that she isn’t the one holding it. The tips of Zuko’s fingers and nose are red, which says a lot about the frigid temperature and the winter wind that’s been following them for weeks; Zuko is usually able to regulate his body temperature in order to stave off the cold, but she can imagine that it gets exhausting when he has to sustain that control for days on end. As it is, her toes are ice cubes in her shoes, and her fingers are numb even tucked away in the thick mittens she’d gotten from Piandao back in Shu Jing. She sticks close by Zuko’s side to absorb as much of his warmth as she can, and consequently is hanging off of his arm by the time they decide to stop for lunch. 

“I’m really not looking forward to sleeping out in the cold for another three weeks.” Her teeth chatter through her words, and she’s grateful when Zuko sits down next to her again with a mug of hot tea.

“Me neither.” He hands the mug over, and she cups it gently in her mittened hands. She desperately wants to situate herself between Zuko’s legs and curl up into his chest to maximize their contact, but that would be much too intimate, the seal of an envelope that she isn’t ready to push quite yet.

They sit for a while and finish their tea along with a light lunch, and she’s just dreading pulling away from Zuko when there’s a rustling sound behind them. Both of them jump up and spin to look towards the sound, dropping into ready stances in case they need to fight.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to startle you kids!” An old woman ambles out from the trees; her hair is long and almost white, and she’s carrying a covered basket over her arm. But what catches Katara’s attention isn’t the woman’s age or sudden appearance.

Katara gasps, and speaks through the mitten that’s come up reflexively to cover her gaping mouth. “You’re Othered!” The woman’s eyes glow an icy blue, the color staggering against the dull brown backdrop of the bare forest.

“Oh, my!” The woman’s wrinkled eyes widen when she takes in the two Othered standing before her. “I didn’t realize you were gifted. How interesting!” Her eyes sparkle in the midday sunlight, almost ethereal in their brightness. “Why don’t you two come back to my home? It’s a short walk from here, and that way you don’t have to stay out in the cold.” Katara and Zuko look at each other, mentally debating whether or not they have the time to spare to deviate from their course.

“That’s very kind of you, uh…” Zuko trails off awkwardly, and the woman’s grin widens.

“Call me Hama.”

Xx

“I didn’t know anybody lived out this way.” Hama leads them through the forest with sure steps, and Katara is increasingly intrigued by the old woman. “Have you lived out here for long?

“Oh, I’ve been here for a number of years,” Hama says over her shoulder. “I was able to convince my family to build me a home out here once I was old enough to live on my own. I’ve been out here ever since!”

“My family did something similar for me,” she says. “It was nice of your family to help you out.” Katara looks up at Zuko’s placid face. He hasn’t spoken much since Hama had showed up, and she wonders what’s got him so clammed up. She tries to catch his eyes, but he seems determined to keep his attention in front of them.

“Yes, it was.”

“So, what’s your gift?” Hama’s steps falter for the briefest moment in front of her.

“I’d rather not say, dear.” She shoots Katara a smile over her shoulder, but there’s something off about it, some unnamable emotion hidden underneath her wrinkled skin. “Some gifts are better left unused.” The words are almost a hiss as they leave the old woman’s mouth.

“Oh.” Katara looks up at Zuko again, and notices the crease on his forehead that hadn’t been there just a moment ago. “Okay.”

“What is your gift, my dear?” Hama’s voice is back to normal, and Katara tries to shake off the strange feeling that the sudden shift in tone had brought upon her.

“I can manipulate water!” Katara siphons some water out of the skin at her hip and twirls it around in a simple arc above her hand. Hama’s eyes catch on the water and follow the stream around as it twists back into its home.

“Isn’t that something!” Hama smiles at Katara before turning to face Zuko. “And you, dear?” Zuko opens his hand, and a sphere of flame comes to life and hovers about an inch above his palm. The fire throws warm light onto Hama’s face at strange angles and reflects off of her cool eyes. “Oh, goodness. That must be useful out here in the cold.”

“Yeah.” Zuko nods politely at Hama’s smile, and when the old woman turns around Katara catches his eyes and raises a brow ( _ what’s up with you? _ ). He flattens his mouth into a hard line and shifts his eyes quickly to Hama before bringing them back to her ( _ we’ll talk later _ ).

The walk to Hama’s doesn’t take much longer after that; the sun is still high in the sky when they come upon the house. It’s a good size, and looks to have two floors.  _ Why would someone who lives alone need two floors? _ Hama ushers them into the house and hastily closes the door behind them to keep out the bitter winter chill. The first floor is bigger than Katara’s entire home, but not by much. Where Katara’s house is perfect for one person ( _ maybe two? _ ), Hama's looks like it could fit four or five people comfortably; it’s possible that Hama could have had a family, and that would explain the large home, but for some reason Katara just doesn’t think that’s the case. It’s not that the old woman isn’t nice, and she’s definitely friendly, she just gets the sense that Hama isn’t the kind of woman who would be particularly good with children.

“Dear, could you perhaps light the fire for me?” Hama smiles sweetly at Zuko, and he lights the hearth wordlessly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Zuko walks back over to Katara’s side, and they stand shoulder to shoulder, unsure of where to put their things or sit down.

“Make yourselves comfortable!” Hama waves her hand at them and sets her basket down on the counter. “You’re more than welcome to stay the night, if you’d like to put your things upstairs. I’m sure you could use a night in a warm bed and a proper bath!” She and Zuko look at each other, and after a moment Katara shrugs her shoulders.  _ A bed and a bath would be really nice. _

“Are you sure we wouldn’t be intruding?” It’s the most Zuko has said since they met Hama, and Katara is itching to get him somewhere private so that she can pick his brain.

“Oh, of course not!” Hama uncovers her basket and pulls out the carcass of a sizable jackrabbit. “Please, I haven’t had company in far too long. I’d love to make you a hearty meal and share my home for the night!” Katara pulls her bottom lip through her teeth and shoots one more glance at Zuko.

“Thank you Hama,” she says, and the old woman returns her smile. “We’d love to stay.”

“Wonderful!” Hama claps her wrinkled hands together after lying the animal corpse down on a thick wooden cutting board. “Why don’t you two go get cleaned up and I'll get dinner started? There should be clean linens on each bed. Most of the beds are quite small, I’m afraid; I don’t get many visitors, and on the off chance that I do they’re usually alone and lost, not travelling in pairs.” She winks at the two of them, and a hot blush crawls its way up Katara’s neck and cheeks.

“Oh, that’s- that’s alright,” she stammers. “We’re not- I mean, we don’t-”

“Oh!” Hama looks genuinely surprised, and Katara isn’t sure how she feels about it. “Of course, yes. Like I said, there are clean linens on every bed.” 

She sends them off with a smile, and the two Othered shuffle awkwardly up the stairs. Katara follows Zuko into the room he chooses; the look of surprise on his face when she closes the door behind her makes her cheeks heat up all over again.

“What’s going on with you?” She keeps her voice low, and sees his shoulders relax minutely.  _ He didn’t actually think- _

“I just… get a weird feeling from her, that’s all,” he grumbles, and drops his bag onto the floor next to the small bed. 

“She’s just a lonely old lady.” 

Zuko raises his brow at her words. “Katara, I know you feel it too. You have a good intuition. She’s just… off.”

Katara sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. But it’s just one night. We’ll clean up and eat a few real meals, sleep in real beds, and head out early tomorrow. She probably just hasn’t seen anyone in a while and that’s why she’s a little weird.”

“What about her gift?” A cold chill sweeps up Katara’s spine. “What did she mean by ‘better left unused’?”

“I don’t know.” She wraps her arms around herself, and finds that she’s unconsciously taken a few steps closer to Zuko. “But we don’t have to ask about it. Let’s just drop it, and forget about it.” 

Zuko looks at her for a long moment, his glowing golden eyes darting back and forth between hers before he sighs.

“Okay. You’re probably right, she’s just a weird old lady.” It doesn’t seem like he truly believes her, and if she’s being honest, she doesn’t truly believe herself either. “Do you want to clean up first?”

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He pulls off his heavy jacket, and she sees the muscles underneath his shirt as it stretches taught against his chest. “Let me know when you have a bath drawn and I can heat up the water for you.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” He mirrors the smile on her face before she heads down the hall to another room. 

She peels off her heavy outer layers and plops them onto the bed, listening as it creaks slightly under the weight. She’s finally starting to get feeling back in her toes, and after she takes her boots and heavy socks off, she massages some warmth back into them. As much as Hama weirds her out, she’s  _ really _ glad to be able to sleep in a real bed and take a warm bath. Her hair falls down in a curtain as she gathers her soap, comb, and clean clothes before she goes to start her bath. She piles her things neatly in the washroom before turning the tap and pulling enough water for her bath straight out and into the tub. Zuko’s door is closed when she goes to fetch him, but before she can even knock the door swings open; the sudden movement makes her flinch.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Zuko is rolling up the sleeves of his deep red shirt so that they sit above his elbows. She had never realized how distracting someone’s forearms could be before now. “I heard you coming. Are you ready?” Her eyes snap back up to his, and she feels her cheeks starting to heat up.  _ Get a hold of yourself Katara. _

She nods and they walk together to the washroom. Zuko bends over the tub (she does her best not to stare) and sticks his arms in the water almost up to his elbows. After a minute the water starts to steam, and the air gets thicker with the condensation.

“Is this warm enough?” She walks over and skims her fingers along the edge of the water.

“Yeah, that’s great.” Their eyes meet; there’s something strangely intimate about Zuko’s gesture, and she feels those familiar sparks dancing between their eyes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Zuko holds her eyes, and she watches his flick down to her lips before he hastily straightens out and pulls his arms out of the water. “I’ll just-” he gestures awkwardly over his shoulder with a thumb as the water rises off of his arms as steam.

“Yeah.” She grabs the ends of her hair in a nervous gesture. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.” Zuko makes a hasty retreat, and she lets out a heavy sigh when the door closes behind him.

Xx

“So, what are you two kids doing all the way out here?” Hama asks around a spoonful of stew as they sit at the dining table. “There’s hardly anything out here of interest; the closest town is three weeks away!”

“We’re looking for The Source,” Katara answers. It couldn’t hurt to tell the old woman the truth, and she gets the feeling that Hama wouldn’t believe her if she thought to lie.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“It’s what gives all Othered their gifts.” She sees Hama’s glowing eyes narrow just the slightest bit. “Someone’s trying to destroy it.”

“Who would want to do such a thing?” Hama passes Katara a plate of rolls.

“A tyrant.” Zuko’s voice is low and hard. “Destroying The Source will throw the whole world out of balance. He wants to use the confusion as an opportunity to gain more control.”

“Oh dear, that doesn’t sound good at all.”

“It’s not.”

“That’s why we’re trying to find it,” Katara interjects. “We have to protect it, otherwise the whole world is going to fall apart.”

“My goodness!” Hama raises a wrinkled hand to place it over her heart. “You two sure are taking on a big responsibility!”

“We have friends that are helping us.” Zuko’s glowing eyes meet hers from across the table, and she sees the hidden message in them  _ (don’t say too much). _ “They’re meeting us closer to where we think The Source is.”

“Well, I’m glad you two aren’t doing it all on your own. God forbid anything were to happen to one of you!” Hama says it with an air of brevity that is a stark contrast to the dark words, and Katara catches Zuko’s eyes again across the table.  _ We’ll leave first thing in the morning. _

Xx

After dinner and some tea, Katara and Zuko had retreated to their separate rooms for a much needed sleep. The bed isn’t as comfortable as the beds at Piandao’s castle, but it’s leagues better than the frozen dirt and a bedroll, and she falls asleep relatively quickly. Which is why she’s surprised when she awakens in the middle of the night for seemingly no reason. Something tugs inside of her and she sits up; there’s a distinct feeling of wrongness, and she shivers at the ghostly sensation that crawls its way across her skin with the chill. She hears a noise coming from somewhere outside of the bedroom- probably downstairs- something that’s almost a crash, but could also just be someone stumbling around. For whatever reason she decides to get up and investigate, even though the sound could have been anything.  _ It’s probably nothing to worry about. _

She pulls on a shirt and her leggings and rises from her warm bed. She winces as the door creaks on its hinges, but when she pokes her head out the space beyond is empty. The hallway is dark, just a tiny amount of moonlight seeping in from a small window; she hugs her elbows to her chest with a shiver. The floor is cold as her feet make their way down the hall towards where Zuko had been sleeping, and she comes upon the door to find it cracked open.  _ That’s weird. _

“Zuko?” she whispers, but she knows that Zuko would hear if he was in the room. The answering silence sends another chill running up her spine, and she reaches to push the door open. “Zuko?” 

The door glides open to reveal an empty room; the blankets are flung almost entirely off of the bed, and there’s no sign of Zuko. She turns around and sees the door to the washroom open and the room itself empty and dark.  _ Something’s wrong.  _ The house itself is relatively warm, but there’s a constant chill weaving its way down Katara’s spine as she walks slowly to the stairs. Each step is silent as she treads downward into the large open space, only to find the hearth black and sooty and every chair empty. Her heart starts to pick up pace in her chest, and she can feel it beating behind her ribs as she pokes around the open space.

Another noise breaks the silence, and she jumps at the unexpected sound coming from behind her. She whips around, but there’s nothing there.  _ What the hell is going on?  _ Her feet guide her towards where the sound had come from and lead her around a narrow corner; she stops at a previously unseen door that sits ajar in the empty space. It looks like it leads to some sort of basement, and every fiber of her being is screaming at her to turn back as she moves towards it.  _ If Zuko’s in trouble, I have to help him. _ It’s this thought that fuels her bravery, and she pulls the door open enough so that she can see through it. It does in fact lead downward, but the stairs are completely dark aside from a miniscule flickering of light at the bottom that is much too far away to be at the depth of a normal basement. Katara’s heart pounds like mad inside of her; in all the horror stories she’s ever read, she always told herself that she’d never be the one to enter a creepy basement alone.

She takes the first step down the stairs.

Her bare foot is met by cold concrete, and she almost turns around right there before she remembers that there’s a solid chance that Zuko is in trouble down at the end of the staircase. Trembling hands slide along the wall as she descends towards the small flickering light source, feeling like she’s wading through molasses for how slow her feet are moving.  _ Come on Katara, don’t be afraid. It probably isn’t even anything bad.  _ She knows it’s a lie even as she thinks it. The light source has gotten brighter now, and she realizes that she’s almost halfway down the stairs. Little snippets of sound make their way towards her ears; it sounds like Hama is speaking, but she doesn’t hear Zuko’s voice in return. She begs her feet to move faster, knowing for sure now that Zuko is in trouble.  _ I should have listened to him. We should have never agreed to stay the night. _

Finally she reaches the bottom of the stairs, and the source of light reveals itself to be hidden just around a corner. Hama’s laugh warbles out from around the corner as well, this time accompanied by a strangled grunt that must come from Zuko. Katara’s steps are agonizingly slow, but eventually they lead her around the corner and into a scene straight out of a nightmare.

A sconce splashes firelight throughout the single room that she comes upon; the concrete floor is stained with large, dark splotches, and there are various sets of shackles spread out along the floor of the two side walls. Her heart is a wild animal raging in her chest; Katara truly wonders how she doesn’t pass out. Her eyes find Zuko, and her heart almost stops completely.

He’s held up against the far wall somehow, with his toes just barely scraping the floor and his arms outstretched on either side. There’s a thin trail of blood starting somewhere on his hairline and travelling down over his scar and creeping down his neck, and his chest heaves underneath a ripped and bloody shirt. There’s three long gashes that stretch from his sternum down across his torso to right below his ribs, and she gags at the sight of blood somehow  _ floating _ in the air above his wounds. She meets his eyes- they’re as wide as she’s ever seen them, with unadulterated terror shining bright along with the glow. Hama stands a few feet away from him with her back to Katara and her wrinkled hand stretched towards Zuko with an open palm. Zuko grunts, and he twitches as if he’s trying to get to her, but his body doesn’t move. Hama turns around to face Katara, and a deranged smile stretches across her face.

“Ah, I had hoped that I could handle you both separately...” She keeps her hand stretched out towards Zuko while she speaks. Her eyes glow almost white in the darkness. “I told him he was being too loud,” she turns back to Zuko, “didn’t I?” Her hand clenches shut, and Zuko’s face crumples with pain as he lets out a strangled scream.

“What are you doing to him?!” Katara wastes no time in summoning her water, only to realize that she doesn’t have any on her.  _ Fuck! _

“Nothing that I won’t do to you!” Hama cackles and reaches her other hand out towards Katara. Suddenly her body is overcome by the feeling of pins and needles, and she can’t move a single muscle. “Do you remember how I told you some gifts are better left unused? My gift is quite  _ dangerous _ .” Katara feels a plucking sensation in her legs, like the playing of an out of tune lute, and her eyes widen in horror as she starts walking towards Hama against her will. “My gift isn’t nice and playful like yours.” Her words are venom; spittle flies from her mouth with each one. “I could never use mine to play house or dance around in the rain or whatever it is you do with water.” There’s an unmistakable poison in her voice, and it’s entirely different from the Hama that Katara had gotten to know over the course of the day. “So, I had my family build me this house. Well, I didn’t really give them a choice!” She cackles to herself again before continuing. “I had them build it nice and big so that I could offer respite to any lost travellers.” She stops Katara about a foot away from her. “You’d be surprised how many people wander out here without realizing that I’m the only thing around for miles. There are worse things in these woods than bears, my dear.” She smiles and tilts her head to the side, and Katara thinks she would throw up if she could move at all. “I take people in, and while they sleep, I pick them up,” Hama moves her hand upwards, and Katara is lifted straight off of the ground, “and bring them down here,” her gnarled fingers twitch, and Katara’s legs start twitching as well, “and practice my gift on them. You see, Katara dear-” she lowers her hand, and soon Katara is back on solid ground. “My gift lets me hear the song that flows through every living being.  _ Blood.” _ Katara feels the bile rise in her throat, and she swallows hard to push it back. “My gift allows me to conduct a symphony with blood, and that means I can make people do whatever I want them to. A concert of my own creation.” Her smile sends a violent shiver down Katara’s spine. “Society has shunned me,” the old woman’s face quickly turns dark, “has turned me away, beaten and mocked me, and I’ll do to them what they’ve done to me.”

“But-” Katara finds her voice- it comes out scratchy and strained. “But we’re like you! We were shunned too! Just let us go!”

“Oh, sweet child, I can’t let you go!” Hama stretches her other hand back out, and Zuko is once again splayed against the far wall, panting and sweating with a dazed look in his eyes. “Even if you are like me.”

Katara is at a total loss for words, and without any way to move her body, she starts to panic. She makes eye contact with Zuko, who seems more lucid now despite the pain he must be in; there’s a hard look in the shining gold that lets her know that he’s not ready to give up yet.

“Please Hama, we won’t tell anyone!” Her voice breaks as she begs, and she feels salty tears trail down her face. “Just let us go and we’ll never come back!”

“No!” Hama shouts and curls her hand up, and a white hot pain shoots through every part of Katara’s body. It feels like she’s being struck by lightning, and it has her baring her teeth and screaming out in pain.

Distantly she hears Zuko grunt, and suddenly the pain stops and she falls to the floor. She hears the familiar  _ whoosh _ of Zuko’s fire from her place on the floor where she’s slowly trying to get to her hands and knees, and Hama shrieks and stumbles.

“Stupid boy!” Hama is livid, her voice wobbling and rageful, and Katara lifts her head just in time to see Hama grab hold of Zuko’s blood and slam him into the corner of the room. An audible crack accompanies his contact with the wall, and he slumps down to the floor unconscious.

Katara uses her moment of clarity to swing her leg out and knock Hama down to the ground, and crawls over to grab the old woman’s deceptively strong wrists and pin them to the floor.

“You fools!” Hama cackles as she twitches her fingers and sends Katara sliding across the floor into the wall. Sharp pain blooms from the back of her head as Hama stalks towards her, a predator cornering her prey. A groan slides up her throat; the world spins for a moment before she can even brace herself against the ground. The metal shackles at Katara’s side clink together as Hama grabs hold of her blood again and moves her to sit up. “What will you do, Katara? Even if you could incapacitate me, would you just kill a poor old woman?” Katara’s heart stutters even as she quietly grabs one of the shackles. Hama stalks towards her with glowing eyes locked on hers the whole way.  _ If I can distract her enough so that I can move my hand, I can knock her out, and then… then… then what? _ What would she do? Hama’s right; there’s no other towns around for miles, and if she and Zuko left Hama to tell someone in town about her, the old woman would be gone by the time they got back. But she can’t kill her, even if she is evil. She doesn’t have it in her.

“You’re sick!” She sticks to distracting Hama for now; if she can knock her out, she’ll have more time to think about what to do. Her eyes dart over to look at Zuko, who is still unconscious, but thankfully breathing. “You’re just a fucked up old lady! You’re a monster!”

“Oh, yes! I  _ am  _ a monster, aren’t I?” Hama lets out an unhinged laugh as she finally comes within Katara’s range. “But there’s nothing you can do about it! I’ll kill you, and I’ll kill your little boyfriend, and nobody will be the wiser! Your friends will never even know what happened!” Hama continues laughing as she gets even closer, and Katara can feel the old crone’s control slipping as she grows more confident. She musters everything she can and uses her disgust and fear as fuel to power her arm as it swings up and whacks the metal shackle into Hama’s head with a sickening  _ thunk. _

Hama falls down across Katara’s legs as she feels her body return to her. She quickly scrambles out from underneath the old woman’s body before rolling her to lay on her back. Her plan, as solid as she had thought it was, hadn’t worked, and Hama stares up at Katara with wide, glowing, unblinking eyes. A pool of blood collects beneath the old woman’s head, staining her white hair a gruesome red.

“No...” She barely gets the word out, and her hands start to shake as she reaches for Hama’s neck. “No, no, no!” She presses her trembling fingers to Hama’s pulse point, and feels nothing. “No! Come on!” She shakes the old woman’s body, and the absence of a response starts her chest heaving at an almost painful pace. “Come on! Wake up!” She drops Hama’s body-  _ her body, oh my god-  _ like it’s burned her, and scrambles back towards Zuko. 

Tears flow freely down her face as she turns to look at Zuko, who is still unconscious. She trembles violently, and turns back to look at Hama. The old woman lies lifeless on the cold ground, the pool of blood growing larger by the second. Katara turns to the side and retches until her stomach hurts. The image is burned into her mind; Hama’s skin, pale as death, her unblinking eyes still glowing even now. Her chest expands around gasping breaths, but she still can’t draw enough air in. She is suddenly wracked with uncontrollable sobs, so powerful she thinks they may crack her ribs. She covers her eyes with trembling hands, curls into herself, and cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😨 oh man this chapter was so fun to write. i had wanted to post it closer to halloween, but my update schedule said nah and i didn't want to make you guys wait. let me know what you all think!!! next update on thursday 😊


	22. The Aftermath

  
  


A splitting headache wakes Zuko from his stupor; the back of his head feels like it’s been split open, and it takes him a moment to move his awareness past the pain. As he comes to, the sound of Katara’s heavy sobs prompts him to peel his eyelids apart, and what he sees is enough to make his stomach drop straight down into the floor. Katara is curled up on the floor a few feet away from him with her knees to her chest and her head buried in her arms. Her weeping is strong enough to shake her entire body, and his heart clenches as he rouses his body to move.

“Katara?” Her head snaps up, and she meets his eyes; hers are red and puffy, and there’s a wetness covering her cheeks that she hasn’t bothered to wipe away.

“Zuko!” The way his name spills from her lips reminds him of the time he had seen a house catch fire back in Ember: all ash and soot and pain. He opens his arms, and she crawls over to nestle herself between his legs. “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t want her to- she was going to kill me! And she was going to kill you and-” Small, shaking hands fist into the remains of his shirt, and he can feel her lips move against his chest, thankfully not on the relatively shallow wounds Hama had inflicted on him. He brings his hand up to stroke Katara’s hair as his eyes wander around the space before catching on-

_ Oh, no.  _ Hama lies not too far away, face up and unmoving on the cold floor. There’s dark blood trailing from in and behind her ear, and the glow from her unblinking eyes is still visible in the shifting light of the sconces. He winces and pushes through the pain to raise his arm and embrace Katara as she continues to sob into his chest. It had been a baseless hope that Katara would come out of this quest unscathed, but he had hoped nonetheless. There’s nothing he can say to console her, no words that will soften the jagged edges of guilt and horror that come along with taking a life, so he does the only thing he can. She shakes and sobs in his arms, and he strokes her messy hair and cradles her head to his chest, and prays to any god that will listen that Katara’s heart won’t be leadened by this moment forever.

After some amount of time- possibly minutes, maybe hours- Katara has quieted to the occasional hiccup, and he feels her breaths growing more even with each shaky exhale.

“Let’s go upstairs.” She nods against his chest. “Can you stand?” Logically he’s the one that should be having trouble, but Zuko is no stranger to physical pain, and he’s much more concerned with the wobble of Katara’s legs as he helps her rise. “Don’t look.” He keeps his hand on her hair, moving it to shield her eyes even as she turns her face fully into his chest.

They take small steps- he’s careful to keep her angled so that there’s no possible way for her to see the haunting image of Hama’s lifeless body. After they manage to round the corner, he lets Katara take a few deep breaths before conjuring a small flame in his palm to light their way up the stairs. The journey is slow; his path down these stairs had been stilted and jerking as Hama had taken joy in bending his legs and forcing him to descend into her hellish basement. Katara walks in front of him by just a single step, and he keeps his hand on her back to ensure that she doesn’t fall. Her legs still shake, as does her breath, and her arms are wrapped around herself in a gesture that makes her look small and fragile. His heart breaks for her with each step.

Eventually they make it to the first floor. Zuko closes the door behind them, sealing off the dark portal and leaving the demons of the night behind the heavy wood. Katara jumps at the sound, and in a flash he’s back by her side with his arm wrapped around her waist. He guides her to the main room and lowers her gently onto one of the plush chairs before lighting the hearth.

“I’m gonna get us some water, okay?” She nods silently. “I’ll just be right there,” he says, and points over to the kitchen area. Katara’s head doesn’t move. “I’ll be right back.”

He loathes leaving her alone for even a second, but he knows that he needs to at least have something with them for her to eat and drink, even if she won’t do it. Thankfully there’s a kettle already full of water, and he grabs the whole thing before rummaging around for any type of crackers or biscuits. He wraps what he finds up in a cloth that looks clean enough, and shoves it unceremoniously into his pocket. Katara sits in the same exact place as he left her, and despite the heat of hearth, her body mimics a leaf in the cold winter wind, fragile and quaking and on the edge of a dangerous precipice.

Wordlessly he moves to her side; she flinches when he lays his hand on her shoulder, and when she looks up at him her eyes are wide and bright and wet. Slowly she rises, and his hand gravitates back around her waist as they head for the second floor. The hearth winks out behind them with a wave of his hand,and the house goes dark. Katara pushes closer into his side, and her hand searching for purchase on his shirt reminds him that he still has untended wounds that need to be cleaned. He stops them outside of the room he had been staying in and grabs his pack before guiding Katara to her own room.

She sits on the edge of the bed while he pulls off his shirt with a wince and rummages through his pack for the first aid supplies and for his mug. He finds them both without too much effort and sets the mug aside next to the kettle. The bed dips under his weight as he sits next to Katara and opens the first aid kit.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, tentative and worried. She shakes her head, and he bites his lip. “Are you sure?” She nods. “Okay. Here.” He pours some water from the kettle into his mug and guides it into her shaking hands, curling her fingers around it under his. “Drink some water if you can.” She nods and brings the mug to her lips before taking a miniscule sip.  _ Better than nothing.  _ The mug is handed back to him, and he rests it on the night table before pulling the mostly-crumbled crackers out of his pocket and setting them down with the mug. The contents of the first aid kit are somewhat sparse, but there’s enough alcohol and bandages for his wounds. He’d say that he counts his lucky stars, but the sky is devoid of any light outside the small window.

“Can I help?” Katara’s voice is scratchy and raw, and the sound of it makes him jump.

“Are you sure? You don’t want to rest?”

“I need to help.” There are tears in her eyes, and something inside of him melts as he recognizes the suffering housed within the glowing blue. “Please.”

“Okay,” he sighs as he nods and hands her the cloth and alcohol. If she were anyone else, he wouldn’t be letting her help, but it’s Katara; he knows that she needs to feel like she can still do something good after all that she’s been through tonight.

She dumps the alcohol onto the rag, and he does his absolute best to bite back the hiss of pain that the contact with his open wound brings. They both stay silent as Katara works to clean the gashes on his chest. They’re not that bad, and will probably only require a few handfuls of stitches. She has trouble threading the needle with her shaky hands, and their eyes catch as he takes it from her as gently as he can before threading it and handing it back to her. No words are exchanged between them while she stitches him up, and after a while she snips the last thread and ties the last stitch. 

A breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding escapes his lungs, and he clears everything off of the bed before guiding Katara up towards the pillow and underneath the blanket.

“Stay.” It’s nothing but a breath, but her single word is enough to make him feel like he's breaking all over again. Her voice is so strained, her eyes are puffy and red, and he wouldn’t dream of leaving her alone like this.

He nods and throws on a clean shirt before making his way underneath the blanket. As soon as he lies down she’s there, pressed up against his chest as lightly as she can be while still being in contact with his whole body. She curls into him, buries her head in his shoulder, and as her exhaustion takes her, he lays a kiss on her forehead before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

Xx

When he wakes up the next day it’s well past morning. Katara is still curled into his arms, and in the light of day he takes note of her splotchy cheeks and the heavy purple marks under her eyes. It breaks his heart to see her like this; he’s seen her angry, he’s seen her sad, but this is something else all together. It’s guilt and shame and self hatred and horror all stirred together into a poison, and it’s pumping through her veins with each beat of her heart. He knows that there’s no way he can really help, but he’ll be damned if he won’t try. The stitches in his chest tug uncomfortably as he brushes a stray lock of hair out of Katara’s face with a sigh; the world is too cruel for people with hearts like Katara’s. Hearts that are brave despite their softness, those that endure the worst but still manage to be sensitive, that are efficient but kind to a fault.

He maneuvers his way out of bed, somehow managing not to wake her, and heads to the washroom. In the mirror he takes in his own visage; hair mussed and sticking up in places, eyes laden with heavy bags, maybe even some new lines etched onto his forehead. The water he splashes over his face does nothing to wash away the years he’s aged simply overnight, but his pain isn’t important right now. The stairs creak under his weight as he makes his way into the kitchen to cobble together some sort of breakfast for himself and Katara; he knows that she most likely won’t eat very much, but he has to try. Nobody had been there for him when he went through this himself, and he wouldn’t wish that suffering on anyone, especially not the woman he loves.

Katara is thankfully still asleep when he returns, but as he sits down on the floor she begins to stir. Her eyes peel open, lids parting around irritated pink that contrasts sharply with the glowing blue of her irises. It must have been a heavy sleep, because her eyes take a moment to focus before landing on him, and when they meet his own he sees the memories flood back into her. She moves to prop herself up on her elbows, and he realizes too late that there’s still blood on her clothes. Whether it’s his, hers, or Hama’s is beside the point; the dark stains on her pale green shirt will be upsetting regardless of the origin. 

“Hey.” He keeps his voice as gentle as he can, but finds that after his greeting he’s at a loss for words.

“Hey,” she replies, barely a mumble. Heavy silence fills the space between them for a beat.

“I made breakfast...” he gestures to the bowl perched on the nightstand. “If you’re hungry.”

“Thanks.” She doesn’t outright refuse, so he takes it as a good sign, but she doesn’t reach for the food either. “I think-” her hands catch in her shirt, and she twists it around in her fists. “I’m going to clean up first.”

“Of course.” He scrambles to his feet, not knowing what to do, but knowing that he needs to do  _ something _ . “Do you want me to heat up the water for you?”

“Sure.” The strange flatness to Katara’s voice rings loud in his ears, and he goes to pull her a hot bath. She shuffles in a while later when the basin is full and the room is filled with steam. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He waits for her back in their room, busying himself with repacking their bags and double checking their supplies. On his way downstairs he hears Katara’s sobs coming from the bathroom, raw and unfiltered and haunting. His fingers trace down the length of the door, his skin barely brushing the cold wood. Obviously he can’t go in, but he longs to comfort her, the sound of her cries painful in his ears, and he has to force himself to continue to the main floor. He’d feel bad about rummaging through Hama’s cupboards if she hadn’t tried to kill him, but as it stands, he’s willing to take whatever they might find useful on their travels from the woman’s kitchen. When it comes to survival, it’s imperative to take advantage of whatever resources are available, but he vows to not tell Katara where the few supplies he finds came from.

He’s just managed to pack up the last of their things when Katara returns to the room, hair already dry and hanging loose around her shoulders,and he’s glad to see her blue tunic free of nefarious stains. Her eyes are more red than pink, and she’s sniffling at frequent intervals; it takes all he has not to pull her into his arms and never let go.

“We can leave after we eat, okay?” She nods and sits down on the bed beside him. 

The bowl of food sits in her unmoving hands, and he’s surprised when she actually manages to eat almost half of her breakfast. It’s easy to forget that Katara is made out of tougher stuff, her heart soft but encased in ice from the early traumas of her childhood. He wishes desperately that this was a world where they could be safe like everyone else, but their lives have hardened them, their skin coal under pressure for all of their years until finally turning into diamond; unbreakable and cold.

He laces his fingers into hers before they leave the bedroom, and she sticks close to his side as they walk through the house. It isn’t necessarily cold, but Katara shivers the whole way through. Finally they step out into the fresh air, the winter chill carding through his hair with a light breeze, and he hears her exhale beside him. They pause on the doorstep before continuing on; Katara’s grip is tight on his hand, and as soon as they’re out of view of Hama’s home, she breaks into tears. All he can do is hold her close to his chest, pump up his body temperature to try to comfort her, and pray to any god that will listen that Katara makes it through all of this with her kind heart intact.

Xx

For the next two weeks, Katara wakes up at least once a night due to a nightmare. Zuko is there to hold her when she cries, to stroke her hair and rub her back until finally she falls into a boneless sleep. Needless to say they’re both exhausted, but there’s no way in hell that he’d leave her to deal with this on her own. He’s been making sure that she eats and drinks plenty of water. He’s been doing his best to keep her mind occupied with (admittedly awful) jokes, and when he sees a real smile on her face for the first time since they’ve left Hama’s he thinks he might cry. She doesn’t talk about how she feels much, but when she does he makes sure to be there for her, to give her his undivided attention, and to take note of what she needs, whether it be a distraction, a hand to hold, or just a warm hug. 

Thankfully about three weeks after they left Hama’s, Katara is acting more herself, even if she still has nightmares most nights. There’s more warmth in her eyes, more life in her body as she walks beside him. Her smiles come more often, although for the most part they’re not as bright as they used to be. But Zuko will take whatever he can get; if it means that she’s healing, or at least starting to, he’s glad for it.

“Does it ever go away?” They’re curled into each other in the tent, sharing their body heat in the cold winter night, when Katara’s voice breaks the silence.

“Does what ever go away?”

“The guilt,” she sighs. “The anger, the pain.”

He pulls her hands into his and shuffles a little closer to her. “It won’t ever really go away.” Her eyes drop; he hates making her upset, but he won’t lie to her. “But it gets easier. The thing about it, Katara,” she looks back up at him, “is that it was literally life or death. Do you remember when I told you about that assassin I killed?” She nods. “Do you judge me because of that?”

“Of course not.”

“Do you think I should have let him kill me?”

“No!” She sounds affronted, and he continues before she can get the wrong idea.

“Right, exactly. You can’t beat yourself up over this Katara.” He finds the bravery somewhere inside of him to reach up to her face and brush a long strand of hair behind her ear. “You didn’t have any other options. And on top of that, it was an accident.” She sniffles as he returns his hand to hers. “You’re not a bad person just because you’ve done a bad thing. If that were the case, I’d be a terrible person, and so would everyone else we know.”

“I know.” Her voice is quiet in the dark tent. She moves closer to him, and there’s barely even a few inches between them now. “Thank you, Zuko.”

“For what?” A small smile graces her face, and his heart swoops dangerously in his chest.

“For being here for me.” Now it’s her turn to brush his hair out of his eyes, and he feels his skin get hot where her fingers had grazed it.

“Of course I’m here for you. Katara.”

“I know, but I mean, like-” she looks right into his eyes. “You’ve been here for me through so much, and I just… I don’t think I’d be able to do this without you.” His face softens, and she smiles again. He’s been trying to shove his feelings away these past few weeks, knowing that there is a time and place for them and now is not it, but the air crackles like lightning between them, and he feels the familiar tingle in his bones as he looks into her eyes.

“I’m glad that I can be here for you.” She pulls her lip between her teeth, and he tries his hardest not to look. He fails. “I care about you, Katara.” He doesn’t know why he says it; of course it’s true, but the words fall from his lips before he can think about what they really mean. But she smiles anyway, and this time when she brushes his hair away from his eyes, her hand comes to rest on his face, her palm laying on his scar and sending a heat through him that has nothing to do with his heightened body temperature.

“I care about you too,” she whispers to him, a secret confession shared only in the ease of darkness, and he latches onto the words and stores them in his safebox heart.

His eyes dart between hers, and down to her lips as she wets them in the minute space between their faces. The wild animal that is his heart is flailing around in his chest so rapidly he thinks that it might burst straight out of his skin, but he can’t make himself care. All he cares about right now is the woman he loves, who is less than two inches from his face and seems to be moving closer at a speed so slow it almost doesn’t even seem real. Is she moving closer, or is he? It doesn’t matter, and when their lips finally come together, the rest of the world melts away.

It’s different from both of their previous kisses, maybe because this one is organic and pure and real, something neither of the others had been, at least not really. It starts off slow, barely a press of lips, but it’s everything he’s ever wanted and more, and when she comes back to him for another he doesn’t dream of denying her. Her lips are softer than he remembers, softer than he’d ever imagined them to be, and the tip of her nose is cold against his cheek. He pulls her into him by her waist, gentle but desperate, and her cold hand weaves through his hair and sends a shiver down his spine. His senses are flooded with Katara; her plush lips working his, the light scrape of her nails as she pulls her hand through his hair, the soft curves of her body pressed up against him. She’s sunlight and thunder and crashing waves all wrapped up in the most beautiful person he’s ever seen; she’s passion and grace and bravery all stuffed into the softest, kindest heart he’s ever known, and he’d do anything,  _ anything,  _ to lose himself in her. 

She sighs and melts against him with her lips still locked with his, and fire courses through his veins as her hand trails down from his hair onto his neck. The kiss is slow and languid and  _ hot, _ and he wants every part of her, body and soul and heart and bones. There’s not many layers between them, and he can feel the dip of her spine when he runs his hand up her back. He feels her ribs expand around her lungs before she takes his lip in her teeth, and the shudder that runs through him has nothing to do with the cold. In fact, the air inside the tent has become stuffy and warm, so much so that he’s starting to feel sweat bead on his forehead. She pushes up into him, and hot sparks shoot through his body before he reluctantly breaks their kiss.  _ No need to embarrass myself this fast. _

Heavy breaths fan out in the space between them, barely an inch separating their faces as they come back to earth. There’s no excuses this time: no “we had to” or “we were drunk.” It’s all them, and it finally hits him that Katara actually  _ wants _ him.

“We’re so dumb.” It’s not what he wants to say, but she laughs in his arms and he decides that he doesn’t even care.

“We really are, aren’t we?” She looks happier than she has in weeks, her smile stretched far across her face and eyes crinkled with mirth.

“So, all this time, we could have been…” he looks between them, “like this, but instead…”

“Instead we were insecure and scared and blind? Yeah, I guess so.” They laugh together, and Zuko pulls her back into his chest. He feels lighter than he’s felt in years, like his heart is full of air and he might float away if he doesn’t stay anchored to Katara. “You know what that means, right?” She’s wearing a devilish smirk, and the spark in her eyes sends fizzling heat along his nerves.

“What does it mean?” His voice comes out lower than it usually is, and Katara bites her lip and moves just close enough that he can feel her lips on his when she speaks.

“We have a lot of time to make up for.” He can barely huff out a breath before her lips are on his again, more insistent this time, and he feels the world melt away yet again as he lets himself get lost in her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY OMG. almost 100k in and they FINALLY kiss. i can't believe y'all have stuck around this long lol i love you all so much you'll never understand. but! this story isn't over, and it just gets better from here 😉 let me know what you think! thank you all for reading ❤ next update on monday!


	23. The Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a little warning: this chapter is where that M rating kicks in 😉

  
  


“If we keep up this pace, we should be able to make it to the Serpent’s Pass in time.” Zuko and Katara sit huddled next to the fire, the map splayed out across their laps and a blanket slung over both of their shoulders. “We’ll be a little late, but now that we’re making good time we’ll definitely get there before they leave,” Zuko assures her, and his glowing eyes meet her own as she nods.

“Good.” Sokka had given everyone a hard deadline of two months to get to the Serpent’s Pass, and there’s no way in hell Katara is going to let them get there late.  _ Even if it would be nice to spend some extra time alone with Zuko.  _

A massive weight has lifted off of her chest since she confessed her feelings to him— she hadn’t realized how much it had been hurting her to hold all of that in for so long. At the very least, she didn’t need that pain along with all of the new pains she’s feeling now. She still has nightmares frequently, the vision of Hama’s dead, glowing eyes haunt her like a demented spectre, but she’s slowly releasing her iron grip on the guilt that plagues her. It’ll never truly go away, but having Zuko there by her side to comfort her and relate to her has been invaluable. He’s so patient with her, always there with open arms and soft reassurances. What she appreciates most about him through all of this, though, is his honesty. He doesn’t sugar coat the guilt to try to make her feel better, he doesn’t tell her that it’ll all be okay. She won’t be the same person she was before Hama ever again, but that doesn’t have to be the end of the world. She won’t let it break her.

Aside from that, not much has changed since she and Zuko sorted things out between them. Sure, there’s more cuddling, and the kisses are new, but their daily interactions stay pretty much the same. It says a lot about how close they had grown without even knowing the other’s true feelings, and it sends a fluttering sensation from the tip of Katara’s toes up to her chest. It’s not wise for her to think of the future, of  _ their _ future; if their encounter with Hama proved anything, it was that everything can change in less than an instant. She doesn’t want to imagine that any of her friends or family won’t survive the inevitable battle with the army of Ember, but death has laughed in her face twice now, and she can’t hide from it any longer, no matter how much she wishes she could. The thought of leaving The Source at the end of this mission without Zuko is enough to bring tears to her eyes, and that’s even with her pathetic attempts not to daydream about domestic bliss and growing old with him. But it’s there nonetheless— a simple, happy life, just around the corner, but forever out of reach. 

Despite that, she’s determined to enjoy the time she has with Zuko while she still can, and there’s _plenty_ for her to take pleasure in. They’ve started sparring again, partly because it’s a good way to keep them on their toes, partly to keep warm— and maybe a little bit because of how it makes her blood boil in the most sinful, delicious way. They’ve had time to catch up on kisses and… other things, but she knows that she’ll never tire of the fire in his glowing eyes when she has him trapped on the ground and panting from a good fight. It feels like he _enjoys_ the fact that she can best him in combat, and if that’s the case, Katara is glad for it; it results in more than a few heated encounters, although they do their best to take their time. The more she thinks about it, though, the more she realizes that they may not have the time to wait. They’ll get to The Serpent’s Pass in a few weeks, and after that they won’t be alone anymore. There’s no way they could get away with messing around with six other people around them, especially not Toph, and she doesn’t think she’d even want to try with Sokka in the next tent over. Not to mention the new persistent fear of death that follows her around as a dark shadow— fate has proven to her time and time again that the people she loves can be snatched away in an instant, and the more she realizes that she loves Zuko, the more afraid she is to lose him. 

Her determination blooms anew as their current spar ends with her once again kneeling above Zuko, her weight on his wrists as she stares into the endless glow of his eyes. Heat radiates upward from his prone body, all hard lines and taught muscles beneath her, and it adds to the heat growing somewhere low inside of her. They’re both gasping for breath, mist puffing from their mouths in the cold winter air, and it’s only a matter of time before their lips crash together. She’s feeling bold, and she knows that she wants this, wants  _ him,  _ even if it’s only once before their quest comes to an end (or one of them meets their end). She moves to kiss the side of his jaw, and Zuko turns his head to the side to give her more space.

“Katara...” He gasps when she bites right below his ear, and a low groan shudders through him when she pushes her hips down into his. She can feel his arousal exactly where she wants to, the pressure a high that she’s desperate to chase. She slides her hands up from his wrists to lace their fingers together before moving her attention back up to his lips, her kiss insistent and  _ hungry _ . His mouth is hot and soft under hers, and she moans into it when he pushes up into her; she knows he’s after the same pleasure as she is, and his desire feeds the heat in her veins like nothing else.

“Zuko—” She pulls back from him, enough to see his eyes half lidded and intense as he stares up at her. She does her best to keep her gaze from sticking to his lips, but it’s harder than she cares to admit. “The tent.” 

He nods enthusiastically, and his throat bobs as he swallows around heavy breaths. She pulls him up after she rises, but she can’t keep her hands off of him for very long, and soon their lips are fused together again as they stumble towards the tent. Somehow they manage to get inside and lower themselves down; she pulls off her heavy outer tunic as Zuko does up the tent, and after he takes off his own tunic Katara reaches and pulls the hem of his shirt up and over his head. They come back together in a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, and she feels Zuko shudder against her hands as she trails them up his chest and down over his shoulders. His skin is hot to the touch despite the wintery air, the hair at the nape of his neck slick with sweat. She releases him to tug her shirt over her head, and pulls the tie from her hair, shaking it around a bit to untwist the loose braid she had it in. Zuko’s hands are immediately carding through it, taking it in his grasp and guiding her head back to expose her neck so that he can graze his lips and teeth against her skin. She crawls onto his lap, desperate to feel more of him, to taste his skin and revel in the bliss they bring each other. They both groan when their skin touches, the heat emanating from Zuko’s chest a wild contrast to the cold air outside the tent. Calloused hands slide down her sides to grab onto her hips, and they break the kiss to moan in tandem when Katara shifts against the stiffness in Zuko’s lap.

“I want you.” She holds his face in her hands and watches his bright eyes dart between hers. If he’s looking for hesitation, he won’t find it— this is what she wants, and god does she  _ want. _

He runs his hand over her hair in the most loving way, in a way that she’s sure nobody has ever touched her before. “I want you too.”

“So take me,” she whispers against his lips, and feels his silent shiver in the moment before he kisses her.

There’s a surprising softness to the kiss, one that matches the gentle way that Zuko lays her out beneath him on the bed roll. His lips latch onto her throat, and she feels his hands trail over her sides and move down to hook into the waistband of her leggings.

“Are you sure?” She knows that if she told Zuko to stop, he would. He looks at her with so much emotion in his eyes; she debates telling him how much she loves him as she nods her assurance, but her focus is broken as the cold air hits the bare skin of her thighs as her leggings are pulled off and tossed to the side. 

She had expected it to be more frantic; she knows that they've both been wanting this, wanting each other, for so long, and she had thought that all of that energy would burst out of her like their campfire springing to life with a flick of Zuko’s wrist, hot and bright and fast. Instead, it ebbs out of the palms of her hands and the pads of her fingers, spills out from between her lips on the tail end of his name, leaks through her skin to collect between their bodies as they move. It’s a rush all the same, but it’s more like a swift river rather than a tidal wave, smooth and gentle rather than purely powerful. Zuko is surprisingly soft in the way he runs his hands down her skin, sparks trailing after his fingers and lips giving rise to gooseflesh and labored breaths. A desperate part of her wants to tell him exactly how she feels; if she squints she can almost see love in his shining honeyed eyes, can almost taste it on his tongue, sweet and secret and just for her, and she wonders if he can see it too. Does it hang off the ends of her lashes as they flutter in ecstasy? Is it spelled out like braille in the myriad scars she’s collected? Is it glossy on her lips when he takes them in his, when he kisses her like it’s all he’s ever meant to do? He runs his thumb along her cheek as she shudders and cries out, and she knows that she wants him by her side for the rest of her days, no matter how few there may be.

After they’ve pulled their clothes back on and have gotten comfortable in each other’s arms, Katara’s mind meanders back to where it’s been stuck for the last few weeks, a fresh wave of anxiety dulling the warm glow she had been hiding in. The future has begun to terrify her with all its vast unknowns and endless possibilities, and now more than ever she’s dreading reaching their destination. The worst is yet to come— this she knows— and the knowledge has stripped her bare and exposed all her most sensitive nerves to the harsh cold of reality.

“Zuko?” She doesn’t move her head from where it rests on his chest, and he tilts down to lay a soft kiss onto her hair.

“What is it?” She feels his voice rumble under her ear.

“What if…” She trails off as she pulls herself impossibly closer into his side. “What happens if, when all of this is over, some of us don’t make it?” She raises her head to look up into his eyes, luminous gold casting a warm glow in the darkness of their tent.

“We’ll make it,” he assures her as he runs his hand down her hair.

“But you don’t know that!” She feels tension growing between her brows. This is what all her fear comes down to. “There’s no way for us to know if we’ll make it. We can hope and train and practice, but there’s no guarantee that we’re all going to come out—” She swallows the last word, unwilling to voice her new greatest fear.

“Katara...” His soft voice cuts her right to the core, and hot tears gather in the corners of her eyes. “Come here.”

He pulls her back down onto his chest, but doesn’t say anything else. What can he even say? She’s right, and they both know it. It’s a painful truth that she wishes she could simply ignore, but the facts of life can’t just be pushed aside. She’s seen death; she’s seen it in the dullness of her mother’s eyes, in the dark blood that spilled from Hama’s head onto the cold, hard floor in her basement. It’s almost like she can sense it around every corner, like it’s following just a few steps behind her at every moment, and eventually it will come to take away the people she loves no matter how much she wants to save them. Zuko strokes her hair as her tears gather in the dip of his collarbone; the unknown lurks just out of reach beyond their tent as she cries.

Xx

Katara loves the snow. Ever since she was a little girl, she had loved throwing snowballs and making snow angels with Sokka, had loved coming back into their home with rosy cheeks and wet mittens just to curl up in a blanket by the hearth with her family. Now, she curls into a different kind of heat as they walk along towards The Source. Zuko’s arm is slung around her shoulders, hers around his waist, and she’s ever grateful for the warmth he provides. Things like this, simply walking along fused at the hip, birth an even deeper warmth within her, a light that shines in her soul and chases away the shadows. Those three words sit heavy on her tongue, itching in the back of her throat and creeping up to push behind her teeth, but even now she can’t manage to tell him how much she loves him. It’s stupid, she knows, but that doesn’t diminish the fear. Not a fear born of rejection— she’s smart enough to know that the look in Zuko’s eyes is something more than just simple affection. But if she says it out loud, it becomes real. If she says those words, she can’t take them back, and it’ll make it all the more difficult if things go sideways at The Source. Maybe if she keeps it inside it’ll soften the blow that she anticipates with shaking hands and shuddering breaths. She’s probably crazy, it’s probably nothing, but she can’t shake the feeling that something is going to go wrong when they face off against Ozai’s army.

Zuko stops short, and his arm slides down her back as he looks to a point at their right. Katara knows by now that this is a cue to prepare for a fight, and she’s infinitely glad for the abundance of water falling around them as tiny, frozen crystals.

“What is it?” His back is a rigid line, and she positions herself slightly behind his shoulder. “Are we being followed?”

“Yeah.” His eyes narrow, but as the noises grow louder and a shape begins to form, they grow impossibly wide, and his stance relaxes minutely even as his breathing picks up to an alarming pace.

“Zuko?” He’s having the opposite reaction of what’s normal for an incoming attack. Usually he’s composed, taking even, measured breaths with muscles taught and at the ready. But his hands slowly start to lower, and as a figure moves out into the open, she can see why.

“Hello, brother.” A woman around her age stands with perfect posture at the edge of the trees, hands held behind her back like a soldier. Even if she hadn’t announced herself as family, the resemblance to Zuko is uncanny, and their relation is immediately evident. “It’s been a while.”

“Azula...” he breathes her name, and her painted lips quirk up on one side. 

Before Katara can fully comprehend what’s happening, Zuko is running to his sister, and in a moment his arms are around her so tight that his shoulders are shaking. She sees Azula’s arms wind around his waist and clamp onto him just as tight, and her head comes to rest on his shoulder, her pristine bun out of place next to Zuko’s shaggy hair. Katara turns her face down to the ground; this reunion is far too intimate for her to look upon, and she wants the privacy to take a moment and dash away the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

“Alright, Zuzu. That’s enough of that.” Azula’s voice is prim and proper, and the nickname sounds funny coming out of her mouth. Zuko pulls back from her, but keeps his hands on her shoulders. 

“How are you? Where have you been? Are you hurt?” Zuko shifts Azula’s body as if he’s inspecting her, but as much as Azula tries, her smile still peeks out of the corner of her mouth. “How’d you find us? Is father—”

“Brother.” She places her hands upon his shoulders and stills his frantic movements. “I’m fine. We can talk about all of that while we walk.” Her amber eyes slide over to catch Katara’s. “But why don’t you introduce me to your  _ friend?” _ With the inflection Azula puts on the word and her raised brow, Katara knows that she’s aware that they aren’t  _ just _ friends.

“Right.” Zuko remembers himself and spins around to introduce Katara to his sister. His smile is as bright as she’s ever seen it, and her heart swells. “This is Katara. Katara, this is my sister Azula.” He says the word sister like it’s his most prized possession.

“Hi.” She waves awkwardly, unsure of how to act in a situation like this. Azula seems to analyze her for a moment before turning to Zuko with a smirk.

“I’m surprised, Zuzu. I never thought you’d have it in you to get a girl this put together.” Katara isn’t sure if it’s a compliment or an insult, but Zuko’s smile grows as he looks at his sister. He reaches out to ruffle her hair, only for his hand to be swifty swatted away. “Let’s go— we need to get to The Source as fast as possible.” Azula falls into step with them on Zuko’s other side as they continue on. 

“Did father send you?” Zuko slots his fingers in between Katara’s at the mention of his father.

“Yes,” Azula answers simply. “He sent me out with the army to find you. He had hoped I'd catch you before you got there and bring you home, but he wasn’t expecting me to turn on him.” Her voice lowers as she speaks of Ozai. “He’s gone mad. Well, even more mad than he was before.”

“Azula,” Zuko’s voice breaks as he lets go of Katara’s hand to turn towards his sister. “I’m so sorry I left you there. I never wanted—”

“Brother...” Her eyes dart nervously to Katara.

“She knows.” He answers her unspoken question, and Azula sighs.

“It’s okay, Zuko. You didn’t have a choice. I know you wouldn’t have—” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I know you wouldn’t have left if you had a choice.” Zuko leans over and kisses the top of Azula’s head, and she elbows him in the ribs. “The point is that father’s army is close, and we don’t have any time to spare.”

“What do you plan on doing about him?” Katara asks, and Azula and Zuko turn to look at her as she peeks her head around Zuko’s shoulder.

“Well, if we’re lucky, I’ll be able to kill him at The Source.” Katara flinches at Azula’s casual admittance of her impending attempt at patricide. “That way I can take over as Ember’s queen and we won’t have to worry about father’s madness any more.” 

Katara looks up at Zuko, waiting for him to say something, anything, to Azula about their father, but his features are set in stone. Azula starts up a different conversation with Zuko, but Katara’s ears are full of cotton. She knows Ozai is a bad person— that much is obvious— but the manner in which Azula spoke of killing him chills Katara to the bone. Hama’s dead eyes glow fresh in Katara’s mind, the visage of dark blood pooling around the old woman’s lifeless body returning to her like a lost dog coming home, enthusiastic and vivid.  _ Maybe Ozai deserves it. _ She thinks about all Zuko has told her about his father, about all he hasn’t told her but is easy to guess about whenever he flinches or dissociates or awakens sweating and shaking from another nightmare. What does someone have to do to justify their death? Where do they draw the line? She thinks about the men who killed her mother, and what she knows the people of her village did to them. Does she feel bad for those men? Would it be worth it to keep them alive, even locked in a cell for the rest of their days? What kind of a life is that?

Zuko grabs her hand, and she’s shaken out of her head at the warm contact. He’s looking at her like he knows what she’s thinking, and at this point he probably does. She gives him a small smile, and he slides his arm around her shoulders in response. Some things are better left unanalyzed, and Ozai’s fate is one of them.

Xx

The snow has stopped, but that doesn’t stop Katara from swirling it around her in sparkling ribbons. It’s good practice for her to keep the snow frozen even as she swirls it around the fire, and frankly, she’s having fun. The harsh reality of death hangs over her like a storm cloud, and simple things like this are a gentle and short reprieve from the darkness. Azula sits a little further from the fire, reading from a worn out book and sipping steaming tea from her mug, but Katara catches her looking at the dancing snow more than a few times. Zuko goes off into the forest to hunt, leaving Katara and Azula alone at the fireside. 

“So...” Azula closes her book and adjusts herself on the cold ground. “You and my brother are… a thing?” She doesn’t say it in a mean way, but the quirk of her brow indicates an awkward attempt at teasing.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Katara shrugs, but doesn’t stifle the smile that slides onto her cold cheeks.

“Hm.” Azula’s eyes trail over Katara, clearly assessing her. “And he’s told you about our family?” 

“Yes.” She glances over at Azula, whose face is placid even if her eyes are downcast. “He loves you a lot.”

Azula’s face turns rose red. “Yes, well. We were all each other had back then.”

“I have an older brother too. He’s Zuko’s age— you’ll meet him at the Serpent’s Pass.” She thinks that maybe if she can relate to Azula, their conversation will be a little less awkward. 

“That’s nice.”  _ Or maybe not. _

Silence sweeps over the two women, and Katara settles the snow she had been manipulating back onto the ground.

“You and Zuko—” Azula starts, stops, and then continues. “He cares for you very much. It’s written all over his face.”

“I care about him too.” Her smile is reflexive, and Azula seems to take note of it. “Very much.”

“Hm.” Another beat of silence imposes itself upon them before Azula speaks again. “I’m… glad he has you. You seem… very supportive.” Katara gets the feeling that Azula hasn’t had much of a social life; her words are unpracticed, but she doesn’t think that it makes them any less sincere.

“I do my best.” Katara shrugs. “I’m glad to have him too.” 

Azula’s face is open, and Katara is beginning to realize that she’s always taking things in, always observant and picking up on tiny cues. She probably sees the love Katara has for Zuko written into every line on her face and every crease in her heavy tunic; she wears it proudly, like a badge of honor, and she doesn’t care who sees it. Based on Azula’s face she’s satisfied with Katara’s affection, and Zuko returns to the camp with a fresh kill just as his sister is opening her book back up and taking a sip of her tea.

“What did I miss?”

“Oh, nothing.” Azula’s tone is light, but she doesn’t make eye contact with her brother. “We were just talking about how annoying older brothers are.” She eyes Katara over her book and keeps a solid poker face despite her brother’s scrutiny.

“Oh, but I bet you didn’t talk about how annoying little sisters are,” he responds. Katara laughs, and a tilt in Azula’s lip belies her affection even as she rolls her eyes. “That’s fine, I’ll just talk shit about you with Sokka when we meet up with the group.”

“Traitor,” she mumbles, and smirks when Zuko shoots her a challenging look.

“You’re lucky my hands are full.”

“Or what? I’d kick your ass with all this snow around.”

“I like her, Zuzu,” Azula quips while still looking at her book. Katara sticks her tongue out at Zuko, and his resulting laugh has her breaking into hearty laughter.

The conversation dies down after that, but Katara thinks that Azula’s comment had been a very high compliment. She’s interested to see how well she integrates into the bigger group, and has a strong feeling that Azula and Toph will get along swimmingly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does Zuko have a thing for girls that can kick his ass? yes. yes he does. Azula has joined the gang! i love Azula as a character. i wanted her relationship with Zuko to be totally different in this story, so i hope you guys like how i've done that. ALSO!!! guys, i've finished writing this story!!!!!!! there will be just four (4) more chapters and an epilogue, and that's it!!! that being said, i may spam you all with updates this coming week. no promises though 😉 let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


	24. The Serpent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO this update is a day early, and i've decided that, since i have the rest of the story already written, that i'll be updating monday, wednesday, and friday from now on. so, the whole story will be posted by next friday!!!

The mountains loom above them in the light of early morning, flamingo pink and bright clementine splashing onto snow capped peaks that reach up to the heavens. The sky is clear, an easy path for the sun to dance across the landscape in a graceful arc, and a gentle, chilly breeze winds its way through the coniferous trees that surround their camp. Katara sleeps soundly in their tent; she had woken in a panic last night due to a nightmare, and Zuko knows that she needs all the rest she can get. His sister, however, is up just as early as he is. They had been trained to be morning people through years of being forced to wake and dress to avoid their father’s wrath, and it’s a habit that Zuko thinks he’ll never be able to break. Azula cups her mug in one hand as the steam rises to kiss her face, and holds her beloved book in the other. He watches her eyes trail along the page of the well worn paperback; she’s been carrying around a copy of  _ Love Amongst the Dragons _ for so long that he can’t even remember when she first picked it up. She’s loved at least two previous copies until the point that they’d practically disintegrated, and he’s not surprised to see her current edition permanently cracked at the spine and yellowed from overuse.

“How bad was it after I left?”

Azula sips her tea before answering. “You know Zuzu, you should really be more precise with your words.” She doesn’t look up from her book, but he knows that her eyes have stopped scanning the page. “Saying that you left implies a desire to leave.”

“You know what I mean, Zuli.” He knows that she isn’t very fond of the nickname, but it has the desired effect. She snaps her book shut and looks him in the eye, and he swears that he can see a weariness hiding in the amber of her irises that hadn’t been there before he left Ember.

“It was…” She looks off towards the tent that Katara still sleeps in, and then down at the dredges of their campfire. “It was as you’d expect it to be.”

“He got worse, didn’t he?” His voice is stone on stone, thick with emotion; tears claw at the back of his eyes, fueled by guilt so strong he feels sick to his stomach. 

“If it makes you feel any better...” She takes a deep breath and turns back to look at him. “He had me working away from home for the last year, so I really didn’t see much of him.” Her non-answer is an answer in itself, one that cuts him straight to the bone.

“I’m so sorry, Azula.” His voice cracks on her name. “I wish I never had to leave you there with him. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t care what his sister thinks when the tears break free from his eyes and tumble down his cheeks. They trail down his face and drip off of his chin, falling into his lap as he drops his head. Azula’s never been very emotional— at least, she’s never shown her emotions like he does. No matter how much their father had tried to teach Zuko to hold his emotions in, no matter how many beatings he got and how many could have been avoided if he had just kept quiet, he can never manage to stifle how he feels for very long.

Which is why he’s surprised when he feels Azula’s hand come to rest on his shoulder. Her gaze is focused on her lap as well, and he can see that she’s biting her lip— a tell for when she’s feeling overwhelmed or fragile. The ground beneath him crunches as he pulls her into his arms. Their childhood and adolescence had been riddled with these kinds of embraces; the ones that left no traces of tears save for the wet spots on each other’s shoulders. She feels so small in his arms, and he has to fight to stay in the moment and not get caught up in toxic memories. Azula’s grip is tight in his shirt as she shakes in his arms, but it doesn’t last long. Just a few minutes, never any more— they learned long ago that it’s not safe to be vulnerable.

“Well.” Azula clears her throat and wipes her damp cheeks dry. “That’s enough of that.” A shuffling noise comes from inside the tent signaling Katara’s awakening, and Azula rises to her feet. “I think I’ll take a short walk. Don’t get up to anything while I’m gone. We have to leave soon if we want to make it to the Pass today.” Zuko’s cheeks redden at his sister’s insinuation, but she doesn’t linger long enough to see it.

A long sigh escapes through his lips as he watches Azula walk away. The guilt that plagues him will never go away; it’s a virus in his blood, and it’s eaten away too much of him for the damage to ever be completely repaired. But he thinks that maybe with Katara and his sister safe by his side, he can begin to heal.

Xx

“Wow.” Katara marvels at the massive protrusions that make up the mountains before them. If they had seemed large before, they’re simply gargantuan now that they’re looking with an unobstructed view. “These are way bigger than the mountains around Yangchen.”

“No wonder nobody comes out this way,” he mutters, also entranced by the sparkling snowy peaks that taper off into lush green forests.

“I think I see your friends.” Azula points to a cluster of shapes at the base of where the mountain has been split in two— the thin seam looks miniscule from this distance.  _ I wonder how tight it actually is. _

Katara’s pace picks up until she’s essentially power walking, and he and Azula give up on keeping up with her when she breaks into an all out sprint once they get close enough. Zuko hears her call Sokka’s name, and watches as she drops her pack to the ground unceremoniously and throws herself into her brother’s arms. It’s a much more emotional reunion than his and Azula’s, but he doesn’t think about it too much. As much as he and Katara, and even he and Sokka, are similar, he’ll never be able to change his upbringing. Azula fidgets beside him, and when he turns he catches her drag her lip through her teeth before composing herself. He had told her that Mai would be with the group, but he knows that it’s not the only reason why she’s nervous. They’d be extremely sheltered growing up, and Azula has always had a hard time with the nuances of social interaction more than he has. Peers make her nervous. An army or a servant is different— she can exert control over them, their actions are predictable and choreographed. But people she doesn’t know? Not so much.

“Remember when you pushed Mai and I into the fountain back home?” He nudges Azula with his elbow and sees a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. He’s learned that distraction is the best way to bring his sister out of the confines of her anxiety, and her responding scoff is a sign that at least  _ that _ hasn’t changed, despite all the things that have.

“Yes, and I remember that you cried because you got your favorite shirt wet.” 

“Hey!” He laughs, and the smile on her face grows just a bit more. “I did not cry. I was just frustrated, that’s all.”

“Sure, Zuzu.” She rolls her eyes and smirks. He’s sure that she doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t really care as long as she’s smiling.

“Zuko!” As soon as they get close enough, Aang shouts his name with more enthusiasm than Zuko’s ever had, and comes barreling into him almost exactly like Katara had with Sokka. “We were so worried that you guys wouldn’t make it!” There’s a considerable amount of emotion in Aang’s voice, and when Toph appears and joins the group hug, Zuko is viscerally reminded of how close he’s gotten to the two of them, and how much he’s missed them. He fights back the tears, but just barely.

“What took you guys so long!” Toph tries to cover up her relief with frustration, but she doesn’t hide it very well. Emotion bubbles up and escapes from him as laughter, and the other two join in until they’re a semi-hysterical mess of arms and smiles.

“Guys,” he peels away from his friends and gestures to Azula, who had backed away from the emotional display and wears a carefully neutral expression, “this is my sister Azula.”

“I can see the resemblance!” Aang, chipper as always, walks over and sticks his hand out for Azula to shake. “I’m Aang!”

“Nice to meet you.” She shakes his hand and keeps her face controlled, but he can see her trying not to stare at Aang’s eyes.

“And this is Toph.” The girl doesn’t move towards Azula at his introduction, instead opting for an upward tilt of her chin as a greeting.

“‘Sup.” 

“Hello.” 

Katara approaches them with Sokka’s hand in her own, and Zuko’s heart flutters in his chest when he sees the bright smile on her face. Suki, Ty Lee, and Mai follow close behind.

“Oh, did you and Sugar Queen finally fuck?” Zuko chokes on nothing at Toph’s words, and he catches Azula smirking while he tries to catch his breath. “Good for you, buddy. If you had come back still dumb as doornails I was ready to trap you both in a rock box and wait for nature to take its course.” She gives him an affectionate punch on the arm that has him stumbling due to his earlier shock.

“I like her, too,” Azula says, and Zuko scowls when Toph bursts into raucous laughter.

Katara introduces Azula to her brother and Suki, Ty Lee introduces herself, and an awkward silence falls between Mai and Azula.

“Hello Mai.” His sister’s voice is clipped, and Zuko sees her chest rise and fall with a measured breath as her lip twitches.  _ What happened between them? _

“Hey.” Mai responds in her signature monotone, but crosses her arms and lets her eyes slide away from Azula’s quickly. 

“Right.” Sokka’s eyes dart between the two women. “Anyway, we should get going. Hopefully we can make it to the river by nightfall so that we have a fresh start tomorrow. It’ll take two days to cross the river itself, but after that…”

“After that we can start looking for the actual location of The Source.” Suki picks up where Sokka left off. “It could be anywhere beyond the Pass, so we’ll have to figure out some way to find it.”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.” Toph chuckles and elbows Zuko. “See what I did there?” He rolls his eyes and elects to ignore Toph’s awful joke.

“You guys will have to tell us all about your trip!” Ty Lee exclaims, practically bouncing on her feet, and to Zuko’s surprise, she links her arm through Aang’s. “We already talked about ours, but we’ll go over it all again so that you’re not left out.” She smiles sweetly, but Zuko’s eyes drift away from her and over to Katara’s stony expression.

“Right, okay.” Sokka tilts his head over towards where their camp is. “Let’s eat! I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving!”

“You’re always starving.” Suki takes Sokka’s hand and leads him towards the camp, the rest of the group following suit, but Zuko reaches for Katara’s hand and holds her back.

“Are you okay?” He squeezes her hand, and her grip tightens around his like a vice.

“Yeah,” she exhales the word before meeting his eyes with a strained smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“We won’t talk about it until you’re ready,” he reassures her, and moves to kiss the crown of her head. She nods against him and takes another deep breath before they catch up with the group.

Xx

The night passes in a relatively calm manner, aside from the embarrassing toast Sokka had made at his and Katara’s expense (“to my sister and her new boyfriend— I think I speak for everyone when I say: fucking finally!”), and the morning rises with the sun over the river to the east. The landscape paints a striking picture; the myriad colors of the sunrise bounce and reflect off of the bright blue water, and beyond that is what looks like more forest. The river is massive, and the path they’re bound to take is barely wide enough for three people to walk side-by-side.  _ No wonder nobody travels this way. _ It’s like the land itself has made getting close to The Source all but impossible, and he desperately hopes that the place where they’ll have to camp is wider than the narrow strip that carves the river in two.

They walk single file into the bowels of the nameless river, one by one in a nervous procession. Most of the walk is silent, aside from the occasional “ooh!” or “ahh!” when bright fish jump out of the water beside them. At one point the path dips down and disappears into the water, so Katara scoots to the front of the line and parts the river around the path so that they can continue. The walkway ends up dipping so low that the river extends above their heads, but they can see where it slants back up to the surface and decide that it’s nothing to worry about.

Until a massive shadow swims past all of them at a startling speed.

“What the hell was that?” Sokka’s alarm heightens the group's nerves, and they halt in their tracks.

“What the hell was what?” Toph asks with an anxious tone, and the shadow swims by again on the other side of the path.

“That!” Just as Sokka points towards the shadow, it’s gone, only to reappear a moment later straight ahead of them. A long, green, scaly body breaks through one side of the wall of water, and disappears into the other in one motion. The thing is huge, and they all get a  _ very _ good look at its body— it looks to be as thick as Toph is tall.

“Toph!” He turns to where she stands behind him, but she’s already in a low stance.

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Her arms come up above her in a lifting motion, and the whole path rises beneath their feet until they’re above the water.

“Let’s go!” Suki’s voice rouses the group into action, and they break into a haphazard run towards what Zuko hopes is an area wide enough for them to take shelter on.

But they aren’t nearly fast enough; after just a few tense moments, the massive creature— the fabled serpent, he realises— rises above the water and bares it’s huge, sharp teeth right at them.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, and Ty Lee’s steps falter in front of him.

“What? What is it?!” Toph is unaware of the gargantuan creature, but likely hears it rise out of the water, and  _ definitely _ hears it barrelling towards them.

“Keep going!” Katara shouts, and before anyone can say otherwise, she’s jumped onto the surface of the water and is zipping towards the serpent on a slab of ice.

“Katara!” Sokka reaches out to his sister, but Suki stops him.

“We have to keep going!” She pushes him along, and Toph has to push Zuko along as well.

“We can’t let her fight alone!” He acquiesces and breaks into a run, but there’s  _ no way _ that he’s leaving Katara here alone.

“I’ll help her!” Aang snaps open his glider and leaps into the air, and heads towards the screeching serpent and Katara.

Now it’s his turn to push at Ty Lee, whose steps had stalled as soon as Aang took off. “They’ll be okay,” he tries to reassure her. “They’re strong, they’ll be fine.” He hopes that he sounds less terrified than he feels.

They run as fast as they can, Zuko’s lungs screaming and legs searing from the exertion, but the larger area of the path isn’t getting closer fast enough. Unless Katara and Aang take care of the serpent, they’re doomed. His footfalls are punctuated by wails and roars from the serpent and the sounds of massive amounts of water slamming into its body, but he doesn’t dare take the risk of looking over his shoulder.  _ Katara is capable, and Aang is strong. They’ll be okay.  _ Ty Lee does look over her shoulder, however, and subsequently trips over a loose rock. Zuko lurches forward to grab her before she falls into the water, and with Suki’s help they haul her back onto her feet and keep going.

A deafening roar splits the air, one so intense that they all collectively stop and turn, just in time to see the serpent flail one last time before crashing back into the water. A sigh of relief permeates the entire group, terror dropping into the river along with the slain beast, following its body as it sinks into the depths. Aang gets back to the group first, haggard and red faced from the cold air whipping against him, and promptly falls into Ty Lee’s embrace the moment he touches down. Sokka pushes his way past their friends to stand with Zuko to greet Katara, who is gliding towards them on her ice floe. She hops onto the path with shaky legs, and Zuko and Sokka are there to catch her before she can stumble. Their strange three person hug is a little awkward, but Zuko couldn’t care less if he tried. Katara lets out heavy breaths between him and Sokka, and grips each of their tunics in a tightly clenched fist.

“Damn.” Toph’s voice is a little shaky underneath her bravado. “I wish I could have seen that. It sounded awesome!”

“I’ll admit, it was impressive,” Azula quips from the back of the group. It’s incredibly high praise coming from her.

“Let’s keep going.” Mai’s tone is just a little higher than usual, her face just a little more pinched. 

Suki nods her agreement and leads the group onward. Their pace is definitely slower due to Katara and Aang’s exhaustion, but the large area is close enough that they’ll get there before nightfall. Their brief stint of running had put them ahead of schedule, which Zuko is infinitely grateful for. Not for the first time, and definitely not for the last, he’s struck with the reality of the incredible power that their gifts have given them.  _ Maybe it really is a blessing. _

When they finally reach their soon to be campsite, the sunlight is fading above the mountains behind them as the deep blue of night crawls its way westward. The gods must be smiling upon them, because the area is just big enough for a campfire and the six tents they share between them. Their group has grown so much since just he and Katara set out on their journey ten months ago; what had started as two has become nine. Zuko lets a kernel of hope take root inside of him despite the odds stacked against them. They may be facing an army, but he’s never met anyone stronger than the people around him. If anyone has a chance to save The Source, it’s them.

  
  


Xx

Thankfully the next morning arrives with much less fanfare than the previous day, and the group’s worries have faded with the death of the serpent. Zuko finds himself wondering where it had even come from.  _ It must have babies somewhere, right? What if we run into a baby serpent? Does it have a mate? What if that  _ was  _ the baby? _ He shakes his head against the intrusive thoughts and focuses on his friends as they eat breakfast and pack up their tents. Again it strikes him that these people are the closest he’s had to family in years, other than Azula. It feels almost selfish, but he dreads the inevitable completion of their quest; the knowledge that they’ll have to split up bitters his tongue, turns his breakfast to flavorless mush in his mouth. What really gets him, though, is the thought of having to leave Katara. He’s desperately, completely, maddeningly in love with her, even if he has yet to say it.  _ Maybe she’ll let me go back with her. _ Zuko doesn’t have a life outside of this quest, doesn’t have anyone other than Azula and his uncle to call family, so once this is all over he really has nowhere to go. He doesn’t want to go back to wandering the country, drifting from town to village to city in hopes of finding something to anchor him. He supposes that he could go back to Ember if need be, but he doesn’t really want to. No, what he really wants, in the deepest part of his heart, is to build a life with the woman he loves. He thinks of the modest cottage Katara calls her own, thinks of Speckle (he never thought he’d miss a cat so much) and all the other animals on her small farm. Visions of domestic bliss flit around in his mind before he can stop them. He knows that his dreams will only serve to make everything harder once their journey comes to a close, but just for the moment he wants to indulge.

“So, when we get to the other side of the river,” Toph’s voice breaks the consistent beat of their footsteps as they continue along the path, “how will we find The Source?”

“Well…” Aang rubs the back of his head and looks back at Zuko, glowing grey eyes colored with uncertainty.

“We don’t really know,” Zuko finishes for him.

“You don’t have any idea at all?” Mai’s question adds to his growing anxiety.  _ How are we going to find it? _

“We’ll find it.” Katara sounds sure and confident from where she walks in front of Zuko. “I know it.”

“You don’t really know, though.” Zuko shoots a glare at Azula over his shoulder and is met with a shrug. “It’s true. We’re just going to guess once we get across this river and hope for the best, right?”

“No,” Ty Lee interjects. “We won’t have to guess.”

“Why do you say that?” Suki’s voice carries over the line in front of him.

“Because the forest has an aura.” Ty Lee points to the trees that line the entire riverside that they head towards. Where one side of the river is blocked by mountains, the other is lined with lush trees, with colors spanning from a deep green to a mauvey purple.

“It has an aura? I thought only people had auras,” Toph says.

“I thought so too,” Ty Lee responds. “It’s faint, but the closer we get, the more I can see it. It’s shimmering like ours.” She looks back towards Aang, but Zuko knows that she’s talking to all of the Othered among the group. “And it’s pure silver. It has to be coming from The Source. Once we get into the forest we can just head in the direction that has the strongest aura.”

“Well.” Sokka sounds as mystified as Zuko feels. “That solves that, I guess.”

After walking for a number of hours, the forest looms ahead of them, a vast sea of color only visible now that they’ve gotten close enough. He’s never seen trees like these, some with reflective leaves, some of which are colored with impossible muted yellows and deep blues, all of them insanely tall, lording over the river with unimaginable height. A strange feeling seeps into his chest, a warm sort of tug like someone’s pulling an errant thread from his tunic. The air gets warmer too, eventually growing balmy enough that the whole group has taken off their heavier winter layers, but it stays at just the right temperature to not make him sweat. 

“Holy shit,” Toph mutters behind his back. “It’s massive.”

“What, the trees?” 

“No, the whole forest.” Zuko’s never heard a greater amount of awe in Toph’s voice. “It’s huge. It spans as far as I can see.”

He isn’t sure of the exact range of Toph’s “sight,” but if the forest is all she can see, he can imagine that it’s fairly large. His own awe swells as they come upon the great forest. There’s no noise at all coming from within the trees, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. It’s almost soothing; he feels like he’s been waiting for this silence for all his life. The warmth in his chest grows, and invisible fingers pluck at another broken thread, tethering it to something unseen deep within the trees.

“Can you feel it?” Katara whispers to no one in particular.

“Yeah,” Zuko touches his hand to his chest, “I can.”

“Me too,” Aang agrees, and Ty Lee nods along with wide eyes.

“You think it’s The Source?” Toph’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet, her words a calm, even cadence.

“It has to be,” Sokka answers. “Even I can feel something weird going on. But not a bad weird.”

“It’s calm,” Suki says almost reverently as she steps foot on the riverbank. 

As they file onto the sandy shore of the river, a shudder reverberates through Zuko’s bones, and he can see it echoed in all of his Othered companions. For a few minutes they just stand there and take the forest in; the tree trunks are wider than Zuko is tall, myriad colors that have no place on a tree staining the bark. They spear up into the sky for what feels like a solid mile with needles and leaves of every color he’s ever seen, but even through the dense canopy somehow the sunlight shines through in splotches and splashes of gold. It takes his breath away, snatches it from his lungs like a thief, before replacing it with the freshest air he’s ever tasted.

“Well...” Ty Lee’s voice is more reserved than usual, but no less genuine. “Let’s get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you guys think! next update on friday!


	25. The Forest

  
  


The vegetation in the forest is like nothing Katara has ever seen. It looks like how she’d imagined the enchanted forests from the story books she read as a kid: all bright colors and towering trees, soft petals floating in the perpetual breeze that whispers through the massive trunks as they make their way deeper into the forest. It’s almost surreal. The rest of the group must be just as mystified as she is, because none of them have made a sound since they’ve entered the forest. The canopy is thick with leaves of every color, but gentle sunlight still seeps through and dapples onto the soft forest floor. Little sprouts spring up from the ground, and she tries to be careful not to step on them if she can avoid it. This place feels almost sacred, and she doesn’t think it wise to hurt anything in here that is considered alive. It reminds her of the swamp, but much brighter and kinder and far less creepy. There’s a sense of connectedness that runs through the trees, an invisible force that holds everything together in an ethereal embrace. 

Ty Lee leads the group, using her gift to follow the strange, shimmering aura that resides within the forest. It brings them deeper into the trees, and as the sunlight begins to fade, Katara starts to hear what sounds like bird calls. But the songs are just a little off— if she didn’t know better, she would think that the birds are hitting two notes at the same time. It creates a haunting melody, the strange chords carrying a sense of the unreal through the air. The forest darkens at a snail’s pace, much slower than she thinks it’s supposed to for this time of year, and tiny glowing insects begin to float down from the canopy and drift along through the air. The bugs are smaller than her pinky nail; they’d probably fit comfortably on the head of a pin. They fly around in little clusters and mimic the stars, creating living constellations right in front of their eyes. As they land on the various flower petals dancing through the air, they leave a small glow in their wake that seems to absorb into the petals themselves and make them almost iridescent. Neon slugs crawl along the curves of rocks and various plants, leaving shimmering paths in their wake, and glowing, fuzzy moths flutter aimlessly around them.

“This place is incredible,” Ty Lee coos, her voice wistful and airy.

“It’s just a bunch of trees.” Toph scoffs and blows at her bangs. Katara remembers with a wince that Toph can’t actually see any of the strange colors or lights that surround them, and wonders if she’d be interested in having someone describe them to her.

“Well, there’s gotta be more than just trees in here,” Sokka mumbles and scratches his head. “What else can you see Toph?”

The girl crosses her arms over her chest and shrugs. “I already told you, just a bunch of trees in every direction. There’s nothing else—” She stops short, and her arms fall to her sides as her eyes widen. “Woah.”

“What? What is it?”

“It’s some sort of animal,” Toph whispers, a rare occurrence for her. “It feels like a deer, but bigger, and… different, somehow.” 

Just as Katara is about to ask where, the quiet crunching of fallen leaves brings all of their attention to their left. She doesn’t know how they hadn’t heard it; it does indeed look like a deer, but it’s head hovers a foot above her brothers despite Sokka’s impressive height. It’s antlers stretch even taller, branching out into at least ten different points on each side, and they’re  _ glowing.  _ It has four eyes, two stacked on each side of its face, and they glow a pale yellow just like the antlers. Its thick limbs look almost like tree trunks, the texture akin to rough bark, covered mostly with mossy fur except for its strange root-like hooves. Its coat looks to be a gradient of purple, speckled with various shades of shining pastel yellow, and it walks right up to them before stopping and leveling it’s intense gaze on their group.

“Holy shit,” Zuko murmurs beside her. They’re all frozen in place, too stunned to move an inch. Which is why when Toph starts walking towards the creature, nobody tries to stop her.

“Toph!” Katara tries to raise her voice, but it doesn’t grow much past a quiet hum. “What are you doing?”

“It’s okay.” Toph reaches the creature, and to Katara’s astonishment, it lowers its head enough that Toph can place her hand on its mossy nose. The thing is so big that Toph’s entire hand spans across just its muzzle. “It’s calm. I think…” She rubs the creature's nose, and it presses its head gently into her hand. “I think it knows that we’re supposed to be here.”

“This is so freaky,” Sokka mumbles. She hates to agree, but he has a good point. “Will it let us leave?”

At that, the creature raises its large head, lays another pondering gaze on them, and walks off into the forest. It disappears completely after walking behind a tree, with no trace of the bright glow of its eyes or antlers. Sokka shakes himself and walks towards the tree to peek behind it.

“It’s gone. Like, totally gone.” Sokka looks at each of them with wide eyes, and all Katara can do is shrug her shoulders. With no other options, they continue on, but Katara notices a small smile has made a home on Toph’s face.

After that the forest darkens significantly; more glowing bugs descend upon them and provide a soft light, just enough for them to find their way to a clearing. Dragonflies of various sizes fly alongside them with glowing wings, some as big as her forearm. Their speed creates the illusion of blurred light carrying them along through the warm air. Crystalline structures that hadn’t been viewable in the daylight (or maybe they hadn’t been there at all) collect at the bases of the trees, sparkling and shining with ethereal brilliance. Some creep up the thick trunks, clinging to the bark like vines, slipping under in places where it peels from the boles.

When they stop for the night, they set up their tents in a circle as usual. Katara is hesitant about making a fire— this palace feels almost sanctified, blessed by a force too vast for them to ever understand. If they were to take a piece of it and destroy it for their own gain… even thinking about it makes her want to gag.

“I just feel like it’s a bad idea.” She defends her anxiety when it’s met with opposition from her brother.

“But what if more creepy giant deer find us and try to eat us?” She scoffs at Sokka’s insistence.

“That… thing wasn’t even violent. It seemed pretty calm to me. Back me up here, Toph.”

“Yeah, it was chill.” Toph flicks whatever she’s found in her ear off into the distance, and Katara catches Azula grimace.

“See? I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” 

“I mean,” Ty Lee pipes up from her place on the ground. “All these funky bugs are giving off plenty of light. And it’s warm enough that we don’t need the fire for heat. I think Katara’s right.”

“But what about when we need to cook?” Sokka throws his arms out to the side. “Bugs can’t heat up our food for us!”

“No, but I can,” Zuko declares as he puts his hand on the small of Katara’s back.

Sokka groans and lets his hands drop dramatically to his sides in defeat. “Fine, no fire. See if I care.” It’s very obvious that he  _ does _ care as he practically stomps back towards the tent he shares with Suki before ducking inside, all while grumbling to himself.

“I think you made the right choice Katara,” Aang says as he takes a seat next to Ty Lee. “Something about this forest is special. I think it’ll be best if we damage it as little as possible.”

“Thank you. I thought so too.” She smiles to herself and leans her head against Zuko’s shoulder.

The rest of the group eventually files off into their tents, leaving Katara and Zuko alone in the balmy night air. There are no stars to look at, so instead they lay on their backs and watch the glowing bugs float around like little specks of dust. Shining galaxies form and shift before their eyes, alive and bright. She shuffles closer to him and turns so that she can rest her head in the crook of his shoulder, his heat comforting even with the pleasant weather.

“Are you nervous?” Her warm breath catches in the collar of his shirt. 

Zuko turns his head and presses a light kiss to her hair. “A little, yeah.” His other arm moves down to rest on her waist. “Are you?”

“A little.” It’s a lie— she’s incredibly nervous. Not only for the upcoming fight (even though she’s utterly convinced that they’re going to lose someone in the struggle), but even just to go to sleep. Before she loses her nerve, she whispers, “I haven’t told anyone about Hama.” Zuko adjusts the arm that pillows her head so that he can hold her properly.

“You don’t have to tell anyone until you’re ready.” She knows that he’s trying to look into her eyes, but she hides her face in his shoulder.

“I know that, but…” She takes a deep breath. “I’m worried about the nightmares.” Her lips ghost along his shirt, and she can hear her eyelashes brush against the fabric. “I don’t want anyone to hear me and ask questions that I’m not ready to answer.”

“Oh, Katara.” Zuko turns toward her and pulls her into his chest, and that’s all it takes for the tears to fall. “It’s okay. I’ll be right next to you, and you know how light of a sleeper I am. I’ll wake you up before…” he trails off, but she knows what he was going to say.  _ Before you start screaming. _

“It never gets easier, does it?” She pulls away to look into Zuko’s eyes; she craves the warmth she finds there, the homecoming held behind glowing gold.

“It’ll get easier Katara.” He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “It takes time, but I promise, it doesn’t feel like this forever.” 

She looks at him, sees the affection in his eyes, the worry written into the lines on his forehead, and she knows that no matter where she goes, her home will always be in his arms.

“Zuko...” She gazes into his eyes, bound by a force stronger than she can describe, and forces the words past the lump of doubt in her throat. “I love you.”

Immediately there’s a change in him. It’s almost like he’s melting— every hard line and sharp angle in his body has gone soft. He rests his calloused hand on her cheek, the sun’s warm rays on a cold winter day.

“I love you too.” The words fall like petals from his lips despite his rasping tone. It’s a quiet confession, but their faces are so close that she has no trouble hearing it. “Katara, I love you so much that it scares me. I don’t…” He huffs out an incredulous breath. “I almost don’t want all of this to be over. I don’t want to just walk away from you and try to forget about all of this. I can’t.” There’s tears gathering in his eyes— she catches one with her thumb as it tries to tumble down his face.

“Whatever happens after this, we’ll be together.” She brushes her thumb against his bottom lip, feels the ridges carved into it from years of biting. The hot breath that blows out from his mouth sends a shudder down her spine. “Always.”

Xx

The next week consists of more walking through the incredible, unbelievable forest. The gargantuan trees paint a mythical picture, and Katara simply can’t get over the strange beauty of this place. Dogwood blossoms dance in the air, a perpetual waltz to a silent song. Lavender pokes through the ground at random increments, small clusters here and there nestled among the brightly colored mushrooms that they’ve started to see around the base of most trees. There’s some kind of magic in this place; there always seems to be birds chirping with their strange dual toned songs, some even showing themselves to the group before disappearing back into the canopy. They’re the strangest things she’s ever seen— then again, it feels like each new animal or flower in this place is stranger than the last. A large hawk-like bird had landed on Sokka’s shoulder at one point, with oil slick feathers and glowing green eyes, and even though Sokka had screeched in fear and flapped his arm like a madman, the thing had stuck around for an entire day before flying off again. Little songbirds gravitate towards Aang and Ty Lee as they walk hand in hand, chubby little things that tweet and trill and send Ty Lee into a fit of giggles.

As they trudge through the trees, it seems that the flora and fauna are getting even more out of the ordinary. Birds of paradise grow almost as tall as Katara out of the ground, sunflowers stretch up to skim the rainbow canopy overhead. Roses trail along the ground as if they’ve grown on a vine, iridescent and aromatic. Various ivies crawl up the gargantuan tree trunks and make a home for the smallest of animals. Chipmunks with striped green and orange fur scurry all over the vines, munching on the fingernail-sized flowers that bud along them. Glowing, sky blue rabbits run alongside them; luminous crystals protrude from their bodies at various intervals, and she’s sure she isn’t crazy when she sees the air shimmer behind them as they scamper past her. At one point a large creature that closely resembled a tiger had walked out of the trees; it’s coat was inky black, so dark that it confused her eyes, with a few neon orange stripes along its face and back. Six glowing pink eyes had stared at the group as the animal had crossed in front of them before disappearing into the trees again.

Suffice to say that Katara is feeling a little strange by the end of their first week in the forest. On top of all the unbelievable scenery, a gnawing fear has latched onto her and refuses to let go. The anxiety is a leech on her back, in just the right place so that she can’t reach it, and it’s swelling by the day. She wants her fear to be unfounded— wouldn’t it be nice if she could just pass it off as simple nerves? But it’s more powerful than that, and it grows evermore as it trails her like a too-large shadow. 

After Hama, Katara’s mind has adopted a new fear of death. Not her own death, but the death of her friends and family. How would she even manage to go on if she lost one of them? Would she be able to? Or would grief take hold of her ankles and drag her so far under that she’d forget that she’d ever seen the sun? She doesn’t say anything about it, not even to Zuko. She knows that he’ll worry about her even more than he already does, and she doesn’t want him to think she’s crazy. But she’s _ positive _ that one of them isn’t going to make it out of this fight. Maybe it’s intuition, or maybe it’s The Source telling her to prepare, but the closer they get, the more she can feel death breathing down her neck. As the pull in her chest gets stronger, so does the fear— they increase in tandem with each step forward.

“Hey, look at that!” Sokka’s shout gets her attention, but she doesn’t need to follow his pointed finger to see what he’s talking about.

Before them lies a beautiful lake with water so clear that she can see down to the bottom. The large body draws her in, and before she knows it, she’s stripped down to her undergarments and is jumping into the water. It’s just cool enough to be refreshing, and it’s exactly what she needs right now.

“Katara!” Sokka calls to her. “We don’t have time for this! We have to keep going!”

“Oh, come on, Sokka!” Aang nudges him with a pointy elbow as he pulls his shirt over his head. “Lighten up!”

Soon she’s not the only person in the water; the only ones left ashore are Mai and Azula. Azula promptly sits down and cracks open her well loved book, and Mai finds a comfortable spot to sit and twirl her blades around. Zuko swims over to Katara where she floats on the far side of the lake. The sight of him ignites a steady heat within her; she sees the same heat mirrored in his eyes. But before she can act on it, he’s grabbing her waist and pulling her below the surface. Their limbs tangle in a playful embrace, Zuko’s skin smooth as it trails under her finger tips. The water is clear enough that she can open her eyes and see him with only a little blur in her vision. He’s surrounded by deep purple lotuses that stand proud from their roots in the bed of the lake, and his visage strikes a remarkable picture. Pale skin stands out against the dark blues and purples of the flowers, refracted light warm against his cool toned skin. His eyes are open— searching for hers— and with his glowing gold gaze and his hair splayed out around his head, he almost looks like one of those heroes from the fairytales Gran Gran had read her when she was young.  _ If only I could breathe underwater… _

They break the surface at the same time, gasping and dripping and wearing matching smiles. Katara’s arms move around her in circles as she treads water, but despite the disturbance, fish of all sorts come swimming up to them. Bright blue and red koi swirl around their legs in figure eights, sure of their path even though her and Zuko’s legs are moving steadily to keep them in place. Little schools of shimmering pink minnows move past them, their shining scales catching the sunlight, beaming through the water to create shifting rainbows. Strange orange and deep green ferns shoot up from the bottom of the lake to tickle her legs with each swirl. Pastel pads glide along the water’s glassy surface, cupping iridescent lilies in a soft embrace. For the first time since they’ve entered the forest, Katara feels herself relax. The shadow that’s been tailing her has been left at the shore, worries stripped away and piled with her clothes on dry land.

“Feeling better?” Zuko gets closer to her and lays a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Yeah,” she replies with a smile so wide that it makes her face hurt. “I am.”

“Good.” He runs his thumb along her cheekbone, and she leans into the touch. “Everything’s going to be okay. No matter what happens, we’ll be together.”

She nods into his hand and sighs. She still doesn’t believe him— deep in her gut she  _ knows _ that something bad is going to happen once they reach The Source— but it’s easy to indulge him while she’s surrounded by the calm of her element.

They don’t stay at the lake for very long. Once they've all gotten their fill and Katara’s drawn the water out of their hair and clothes, they bid the sparkling water and strange aquatic creatures goodbye. Her eyes stick to the lake as they depart; if only they could stay there forever, in the safety of the forest, shielded from life and all its horrors. A gurgling river winds off through the trees, and they use it as their new guide. Brightly colored fish leap out of the water at regular intervals, and a few large, bear-like animals wander along the opposite river bank and wade in to snatch fish out of the air. The water itself flows swift and clear, a rippling lens for them to view the smooth, iridescent rocks that cover the bed. She’s compelled to reach out and draw a smooth ribbon from the river; the unnaturally sparkly water feels light in her hands, and she swears she can feel a tiny pulse within it, almost like a heartbeat.  _ This whole forest is alive. _

“The water carries that sparkling aura more powerfully than anything else in here,” Ty Lee explains. “I think it’ll lead us right to The Source!”

A squirming anticipation permeates the group, the unknown hanging just out of reach, answers to the questions they’ve been seeking lurking around every corner.

Xx

“If we keep up this pace, we should get to The Source in a few days.” She trusts Sokka’s examination of the map, but even if she didn’t, she knows they’re getting close. The supernatural tugging in Katara’s chest has been getting stronger by the day, and at this point it’s an almost uncomfortable pressure straining against her ribs.

“What are we going to do once we get there?” Toph speaks around a full mouth as they eat dinner. “Are we gonna just wing it and hope for the best?”

“We have to figure out how to defend it against the army,” Suki replies. “But how can we do that when we don’t even know what it is?”

“That’s a good point.” Sokka swallows audibly and brandishes his spoon in the air. “For all we know it’s just a statue. Or maybe it’s a well. Oh! Or maybe it’s-”

“It doesn’t matter what it is.” Azula cuts him off, and Sokka narrows his eyes. “We have to come up with some sort of plan.”

“Well, if it’s just a singular item…” Sokka continues, but Katara shuts the entire conversation out.

Guilt gnaws at her as her friends continue planning; she should be listening, paying rapt attention to the matter at hand. But that persistent fear is back, slithering up her spine and whispering in her ear. No matter the comfort of Zuko’s hand in hers, no matter the presence of her friends and family around her, dread burrows under her skin and makes a home in the very marrow of her bones. What would she do if she ever lost Sokka? He’s been the only one consistently by her side since she was born. They grew up together, best friends, hand in hand as the years dragged on. He mourned with her after their mother was killed, held her through the nightmares and tears and confusion. He’s her best friend, her protector, her biggest advocate. Could she even go on without him?

And what if she lost Zuko? What he means to her is unnamable. He brought the sun into her home with his glowing eyes, had led her out of her cramped little village shrouded in grey and into the bright technicolor world. Katara hadn’t known love before Zuko came into her life, and she had been beginning to fear that she never would. They had said they’d be together after this is over, after the dust settles and the blood dries and sinks into the ground, and she wants it more than anything. But what if he’s not around when all is said and done? What if she has to leave him here, cold and still and lifeless beneath the loamy forest floor? A vice clamps down around her heart, and she tightens her grip on the bowl she’s supposed to be eating from.  _ Stay in the moment Katara. _

Zuko’s warm hand on her shoulder drags her back to her body, pulling her consciousness out of the trap of her mind and back into the present. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, and sees the subtle worry shining within the glowing gold of his irises. Somehow she manages to force a small smile onto her face, but it probably looks more like a grimace. Zuko’s hand moves down to the small of her back as he leans over to kiss her temple; she does her best to stifle her wobbly sigh.

“So, it’s settled.” Sokka’s voice brings her attention back to the group. “All you elemental Othered will stay on the perimeter to take the brunt of the army, and the rest of us will hang out closer to The Source to take care of any stragglers. Any objections?”

Katara’s heart lurches, the upcoming battle feeling all the more real the more they speak of it. But, as much as she wants to, she has no objections; the plan is as solid as they’ll get it. She just hopes that it will be enough to save them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY the i love you's!!! y'all i had so much fun flexing my creative muscles in this chapter! i hope you all liked it, let me know what you think! we're getting real close to the end now folks, i am SO excited to bring you guys the last few chapters!!! 26 on monday, 27 on wednesday, and the epilogue on friday!!


	26. The Source

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: there is blood in this chapter... a fair amount of it. you have been warned.

  
  


“How much longer until we get there? My feet are killing me.” Mai’s monotone voice breaks through the various noises of the forest, rising over the buzzing cicadas and rustling leaves.

“Not much longer!” Ty Lee bounces on her feet at the front of the group. “The aura is getting brighter and stronger with every step, it won’t be long now!”

“Good,” Azula says from her palace next to Zuko. “The army can’t be far behind us. We need to get there as fast as possible.”

“How could they even find this place?” Sokka asks. “We wouldn’t have found it without Ty Lee, and I don’t think they have a Ty Lee in the army.”

“They’re probably following us,” Zuko says around the guilty lump in his throat. “We led them right to it.”

“They’ve been following you since Ba Sing Se.” A beat of silence follows Azula’s words before she taps Zuko’s elbow with her own. “It’s not your fault. They would have found it regardless— you know how father is.” 

Her words are a small comfort, but it’s not nearly enough to dissolve the darkness twisting in his stomach. Katara has been still and quiet at his side all day, face stony and words clipped, and her anxiety is starting to rub off on him. No matter how much she denies it, he can see the demons plaguing her mind in every move she makes, every additional line in her face. But he has to believe that this will all work out, otherwise fear will creep in like a thick fog, and at this point he doesn’t know if he’d be able to dispel it.  _ This has to work. It has to. _

The ground becomes saturated with water as they walk. At first he thinks that the river they’ve been following is somehow leaking into the dirt around them, but a niggling in the back of his mind disagrees. With each squelching step the tugging in his chest gets more pronounced, and pressure builds behind the invisible hook latched onto his ribs. He’s practically vibrating with energy, anxiety and anticipation and a touch of excitement mingle in a roiling potion in his stomach. He tries to focus on the terrain, how it’s reminding him more and more of the swamp they had stumbled into so many months ago. Of course, the swamp hadn’t been inhabited by strange mythical creatures and hadn’t been swarming with glowing butterflies like the forest is now. Soon there are so many of them circling the group that they have to stop, unable to even see the trees around them. Aang creates a gentle breeze to push them away, and when they emerge from the living cloud, their surroundings have changed entirely.

They stand at the edge of a huge clearing, at the center of which is the biggest tree Zuko has ever seen— it makes the banyan-grove tree look like a sapling. The trunk stretches what has to be miles into the air, and it’s about as thick as three of the trees that reside in the forest they’ve just emerged from. The color scheme is the closest to natural that he’s seen since they’ve crossed the Serpent’s Pass, verdant vines and leaves dipping down almost like a willow, dotted with small white and pink blossoms. The canopy covers the entire clearing, but the heavenly space is still lit. The trunk is a rich, shining brown, but it still contains facets of color that shine in the sunlight. The strangest part, though, is the constant flow of water that comes from the top of the tree. Thin waterfalls reach down from somewhere high above, surrounding the trunk in sporadic intervals. The entire clearing sits in water, four inches deep in every direction, but Zuko finds that his feet aren’t wet. Sunshine bounces off the water and onto the various animals that drink from it, which have all turned to look up at them upon the group’s arrival.

“This is it,” Ty Lee whispers, her voice soft and reverent. “The Source.”

Even if she hadn’t told him, the tugging in his chest lets him know that this is their destination. The power that bleeds from the gargantuan tree is strong, but there’s something soft about it, something light and airy and plush that feels warm on his skin.

He isn’t sure who steps forward first, but in a moment the entire group is moving towards the tree. The various creatures’ glowing eyes trace their steps, but none of them move to leave. His chest feels like it might burst with the pressure that continues to build there; it feels strong enough to crack his ribs. As they get closer to the tree— The Source, he reminds himself— he finds that he can’t look away, not even at the odd lemur-like creatures that stare at them from a group a few feet away. His feet move him towards The Source without him even having to think about it, and before he knows it, he’s standing right at the base.

It’s somehow even bigger now that he’s standing right under it, the top so high in the air that his brain can’t even comprehend the distance. The pressure in his chest is about ready to burst, the force of it almost painful. He raises his hand, distantly realizing that Katara, Toph, Aang, and Ty Lee are all doing the same thing at the same time, and when his palm lays flat against the rough bark, the five of them exhale in tandem as he feels the pressure flow out of him and into The Source. His eyes drift closed, and the world slips away. All he knows is the texture of the bark against his calloused hand and the vivid colors that flow all around him in his mind’s eye. It feels so real— he’s almost convinced that he’s been transported to another place, plucked from the earth and deposited in an entirely different reality. He can only compare the sensation to how he had felt under the water in that placid lake; peaceful, suspended in a single moment. He can feel the heartbeat of the world beneath his fingertips— all of the life that exists rests against his palm, pulsing and warm. An unnamable feeling spreads from his palm down through his body into the marrow of his bones, something heavy and bright and alive. It takes root in his soul before reality comes hurtling back to him.

The five Othered jolt back from The Source all at the same time. They share a look, unable to describe what just happened in words, but somehow they know that they all had the same otherworldly experience. Zuko feels like something in him is finally complete, like he’s been missing a piece without even realizing it and it’s finally fit itself back into his chest like he’s a living puzzle. He registers the rest of the group talking somewhere behind him, but the words buzz past his ears unheard. His mind is still back in that strange place, even if he’s unable to replicate the colors and feelings he had experienced just moments before.

Suddenly, all of the animals in the clearing snap their heads to the edge of the forest. Zuko’s eyes follow their gaze, and he squints at nothing to try to see whatever threat the creatures have sensed. After a beat, every animal in the clearing bolts in the opposite direction. They move faster than what’s natural, leaving trails of light behind them as they escape through the far side of the clearing.

“They’re here.” His stomach drops to his feet at Azula’s words. He knew the army was behind them, but he thought they’d have at least a little more time to prepare.

“Okay.” Sokka takes a deep breath as he addresses the group. “We all know what to do. It’s just a matter of doing it.” He looks each of them in the eye, and nods his encouragement. “Good luck everyone. Be smart, and be safe.” 

Katara lunges forward to hug her brother briefly before turning back towards the group. The rest of them give hasty words of encouragement and share quick embraces before the battle begins. There’s a stinging sense of finality to it all, a tingling acid that curdles in his stomach. The four Othered hug quickly; their little family is finally being put to the ultimate test. Zuko kisses Katara as fast as he can while still trying to convey all of his emotions through the act.

“I love you,” he exhales the words against Katara’s lips, and she nods in return.

“I love you too.” There are tears in her eyes, and he kisses her one last time before they break apart.

“Be safe, okay?” Katara nods again, and he steps back before he can’t bear to let her go. “See you on the other side.”

He runs off towards where they had entered, and he sees Katara, Aang, and Toph fan out around him. The water beneath his feet splashes violently as he moves towards the oncoming danger, and he tries to take deep, measured breaths.  _ We can do this. It’ll be fine. _

“Brother!” Azula calls from behind him, and quickly catches up once he slows his pace.

“I thought you were staying back with the rest of the group?”

Azula shakes her head. “If father is here, I want to face him together.” He catches a glimpse of the little girl he remembers growing up with in Azula’s eyes, but any fear is quickly overshadowed by determination. She’s grown so much, even just in the few years he’s been gone, and he couldn’t be more proud of the woman she’s become. He throws his arms around her in a tight embrace, and kisses the top of her head. She pulls apart from him, and with a nod she draws her sword.

They wait in tense silence for the army to reveal itself. Zuko feels his heart hammering against his chest, straining against his ribs, and prays to any god that will listen that they all make it out of this alive. The clearing morphs into a liminal space, a pause between now and then, a brief reprieve before their final act. After the slowest minute he’s ever experienced, the air at the edge of the clearing starts so shimmer and sway. Azula tightens her grip on her sword next to him. He tries to take a deep breath, but it catches in his throat when the image that haunts his nightmares walks into the clearing followed by dozens of soldiers in blood red uniforms.

“Breathe, Zuzu,” Azula whispers to him as more soldiers materialize behind their father. Zuko forces his lungs to expand and contract around the crisp air that hangs in the clearing.

By the time Ozai has gotten close enough for them to even hear him, there’s no less than one hundred soldiers behind him. They wear red armor trimmed in gold and carry shining swords, but his father is the only one that wears a cruel smile.

“Well, isn’t this a nice family reunion.” A drop of ice slides down Zuko’s spine as he hears his father’s voice for the first time in three years. “Azula.” Ozai narrows his eyes at his sister, and Zuko sees her knuckles whiten around her sword. “I should have known you would defect. You’re just as pathetic as your brother.” He spits the last word like venom, and as much as Zuko doesn’t want to admit it, he feels the poison in his veins.

“Father.” Azula’s voice is calm, but he sees the strain in her jaw as she twirls her sword into a defensive stance. 

“I think it’s time you stepped down.” Zuko finds his words and pushes them through his clenched teeth with no small effort. He balls his hands into fists to try and quell their shaking.

“You have no say in what I do,” Ozai snarls at Zuko. “You lost your right to the throne years ago.”

“But I haven’t.” His sister’s words are a declaration of war. Ozai’s eyes flick to Azula, and all hell breaks loose.

The army rushes forward, and Zuko takes a steadying breath before he runs into the fray. Azula aims for their father, so he runs past them and summons a massive wave of fire. He pushes out with everything he has, and the wave rolls over a sizable chunk of the army. But it seems like Ozai came prepared to face his son; many of the soldiers simply run through the fire with only scorched clothes and red skin.  _ Fuck. _ He reaches for the power he had felt coming from The Source, and it jumps to his fingers in a blink.  _ I just have to make it hotter. I can burn their armor and that’ll slow them down.  _ Other soldiers rush past him, but he can’t take the time to worry about them. He hears blasting winds and lashing water on either side, and he has no doubt that his friends can take care of any soldiers that go beyond him. 

He builds energy in his belly, lets it get hot enough that it starts to burn, and releases it in a massive plume from his mouth. The fire burns brighter than he’s ever seen it, spots of white flickering at its center, and he hears the screams of soldiers as they fall to the ground. He doesn’t take any time to celebrate, instead launching into a series of wide ranged attacks. He draws from every reserve he has to imbue his fire with all the energy he can muster, but for as many soldiers that he drops, more seem to materialize from the forest. With a shout, he pulls his dao from the scabbard on his back and coats them in a sheath of fire. With wide arcs he sends wave after wave of flame towards the army; any soldier that dares to come close is quickly taken down by either the fire itself or the melting armor clinging to their uniforms. A few manage to get close enough to face his swords, but they drop like flies around him. Zuko doesn’t think about the molten metal as it slides from the soldiers’ chests and heads, and does his best to block out the screams coming from every direction. He hears Aang shout to his right, and sees a massive group of soldiers fly back towards the trees, their bodies hitting the solid trunks with sickening cracks. Zuko chances a look at his friend, and sees the tears running in tracks down his cheeks before Aang doubles over and retches into the clear water at their feet. Zuko swallows his guilt— he can’t think about how this is all his fault, not now. He can feel guilty when The Source is safe.

The muscles in his arms are beginning to cramp when he hears a foreign rumbling sound coming from the trees. A large chunk of dark metal is rolled out of the forest by more of his father’s soldiers. It’s a large box adorned with a cylindrical spout that reaches far past the base— he’s never seen anything like it. He cuts a path through the soldiers to get closer to the hulking contraption; it’s got two tanks on either side, each sloshing with some sort of liquid, and four soldiers stand on the back and fumble with various levers. Before he can truly figure out what the thing is, one of the men stationed on the back yells a command, and the soldiers walking in front of the contraption part like the river had for Katara when they crossed the Serpent’s Pass. With another shout, the men riding on the contraption push a heavy looking lever, and a huge, continuous burst of flame spews out of the mouth of the cylinder.  _ Holy shit.  _

Air rips from his lungs as he realizes what the contraption is. It’s a machine made simply to destroy, and it wields his own element against him. It feels like a cruel joke, no doubt orchestrated by his father to drive Zuko’s guilt in like a sword to the chest; he can almost feel it as the water beneath the machine starts to rise as angry, hissing steam.

He doesn’t think before he drops into a dead sprint towards the monstrous metal machine. The artificial fire is incredibly difficult for him to get a hold of, but somehow he manages to get a grip on it. He rips it apart as fast as he can, but more flames spew out of the barrel no matter how much he tears it away.  _ Think, Zuko, think! How are they making the fire? Where’s it coming from? _ It hits him like a tidal wave when he realizes that the sloshing sounds must be some sort of alcohol or flammable liquid. The breaths heaving out from his lungs grow sharp when he realizes what he must do.  _ The whole world is depending on us. I have to do this.  _ His eyes graze over the crowd of soldiers that surround the machine, each of them unaware of what’s about to happen. Zuko takes a deep, shaking breath before forcing the flames that shoot from the contraption’s mouth back around to the tanks of accelerant on the sides. He gasps around the effort to hold it there, and squeezes his eyes shut around a sob as he clenches his fists.

The entire machine explodes in a violent shower of fire and metal.

The force of the blast throws him back, the harsh landing forcefully expelling all the air from his lungs. Screams and wails and the sounds of clashing metal surround him as he fights to catch his breath. As soon as his body will allow it, he rolls onto his hands and knees and retches into the crystal water, just like Aang. He pushes the thought of his pacifist friend from his head— he probably won’t even be able to look Zuko in the eye once this is all over.  _ But it’s not over yet. _

He hauls himself to his feet and clutches at the open wound in his side. It’s not that bad; nothing he can’t take care of when the battle is over. He takes the time to look over the battlefield. What was once a serene clearing is now a violent production; the once clear water is quickly turning a cloudy pink from all of the blood that seeps into it, the grass and flowers that had poked through trampled and dead under his shoes and the unmoving soldiers scattered around The Source. Thankfully, The Source itself looks to be unharmed. Despite all of the bodies littering the clearing and tainting the water, there’s still a shocking number of soldiers coming at them.  _ They’re not all dead. They can’t be.  _ Zuko repeats this mantra as he takes in his friends. Katara is lashing out with her water wildly, flinging and freezing soldiers in droves as they advance. Toph spins in the water and lets a sizable boulder fly into the army; Zuko sees her wince as the boulder comes crashing down on the ground at least fifty yards away, trapping a handful of men beneath it. Aang— the monk, the pacifist, forced to fight a war that Zuko dragged him into— is stone faced as he sends gusts of air at the soldiers using his glider. The rest of his friends he can’t see, but he hopes and prays and  _ begs _ the gods to keep them safe as he runs back into the fight.

_ I have to find Ozai. _ If he can take out his father, they can stop all of the fighting. He runs first to Aang, but Ozai is nowhere to be seen. He ends up back to back with his friend, someone he considers to be the younger brother he never had, as they fight for their lives, and the lives of everyone in the world.  _ How did I ever think I could do this?  _ He’s surprised at the ferocity of Aang’s attacks, but doesn’t miss the tears and gasps as he cries. Zuko does his best to hold back his own tears— he has to be strong. Once the soldiers thin around Aang, Zuko makes his way towards Toph. Flames ignite in his palms as he approaches her, and he sends fireballs flying into the ranks to help thin the crowd surrounding her.

“Zuko!” He hardly ever hears Toph use his real name, and as he approaches her he sees dark blood staining her shirt.

“Toph! Are you okay?”

“No.” She grunts with the effort of bringing her element up from the earth to send a handful of soldiers flying. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Whatever you need.” 

“I need you to cauterize this.” She gestures to the dark spot on her side. “I can’t stop the bleeding while I fight.”

Zuko takes in her face, paler than usual, and sees her chest heaving with each breath. “Okay.” She adjusts her stance so that her wound is exposed. “Ready?”

“Nope. Just do it.” 

He heats his hand, and swallows bile as he presses it to Toph’s wound. A scream rips from her throat, raw and painful; he blinks the tears back and clenches his jaw against the violent urge to retch again. It’s over quickly, and Toph takes a deep, shuddering breath when he pulls his shaking hand back.

“You’re ridiculously strong, you know that?” Zuko can’t help but sing her praises as he fights alongside her. Toph is barely over five feet tall, but she’s the toughest person he’s ever met.

“Of course I do, Sparky!” Her grin looks more like a grimace, but he’ll take it. “Now go find your dad and beat his ass so I can take a nap!”

With a nod and a last burst of flame, he takes off towards The Source. Soldiers fall around him as Mai throws her blades into the cracks in their armor; she barely has time to spare him a glance and she runs past and snatches the projectiles from the bodies she’s dropped. He presses on, passing Ty Lee as she twirls and spins like nothing he’s ever seen. She’s not fast enough for him to miss the blood on her knuckles and the tears staining her cheeks, though. The water under his feet is truly red now, a sickening puddle of blood spanning across the entire battlefield. Suki cuts in front of him, taking out three soldiers in the blink of an eye before running back towards the crowd she came from. Sokka sticks close by her to cover her back, and he sends a solemn nod to Zuko as he passes. There’s blood splattered on his clothes, and a trail of it runs down the side of his face and disappears below the neckline of his shirt. 

His breaths are growing frantic; he can’t find his father or Azula anywhere. The horde of soldiers is thinning, but he still has to weave and jump around the bodies that lie sprawled across the ground. He hears some moaning and groaning, and tells himself that they’ll live. It’s a baseless hope, but one he clings to with an iron fist. Katara comes back into his sight, dark hair unbound and flying every which way as she turns and leaps and lashes out with her water. She draws from the pool beneath her feet; the vision of her manipulating the bloodied water is too familiar. She is a dark spirit, deadly and precise even in her graceful beauty. He races towards her and blasts a handful of soldiers away with a well placed whip of fire. The two of them together are a force to be reckoned with; he’s known this for months, but with the added power that The Source has supplied them with, he thinks that maybe he and Katara have a solid chance of taking care of the rest of the soldiers so that he doesn’t even have to worry about his father.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Zuko sees him.

Ozai hacks at Azula with his sword, the blade coming down in powerful overhead cuts. His father’s hair is undone and tangled, and he’s favoring his left side. Azula’s hair is almost out of her top knot as well, and a chunk at the front is slashed shorter than the rest, the angle corresponding with a thin cut on her cheek, but otherwise she looks like she’s doing alright. There’s blood on both of them— Zuko tries not to see any irony in the shedding of his family's blood by their own hands. He stays with Katara until the soldiers around her have decreased significantly before turning to help Azula.

She and Ozai are closer to him than they had been moments before, and Zuko feels a jolt in his gut at the fact that his father is so close to Katara. He whips his fire at Ozai, who dodges out of the way at the last second. His father parries Azula’s blows, and Zuko does his best to keep the man on his toes while also steering him away from Katara. 

“You two are  _ worthless!”  _ Spit flies from Ozai’s mouth, his face an angry red, his roar rising over the sounds of the fight raging around them. “You’ll never amount to anything in this world! You’re just as pathetic as your mother!” 

At the mention of their mother, Zuko’s vision goes red. He shouts as he punches and kicks at his father, the fire getting so close that Azula has to back off so that she isn’t burned. All of his hate, all of his pain and shame and guilt bleed into the flames and explode in Ozai’s face. It’s a violent catharsis, one that’s been a long time coming. Ozai bends down to pick up a half-melted gold helmet from the ground and hurls it at Zuko; he dodges the projectile, but it forces him to let up on his attack. Azula takes over and advances on Ozai with a shout. She drives him back, managing to slash at the perfect place on their father’s chest plate to send it clattering to the ground. Ozai clutches his bleeding chest and glares at his children; the malice in his eyes as sharp as his sword, gleaming bright and menacing in his white-knuckled grasp.

“It’s over!” Zuko calls to him. “Just give up and we won’t have to kill you!”

“Kill me?” Ozai lets out a manic laugh. “You can’t kill me!”

“Watch me,” Azula growls as she stalks forward, and for a moment Zuko actually thinks they’re going to win.

Until he sees Katara backing up towards Ozai.

She doesn’t even notice who she’s nearing— she’s too focused on the soldiers that are forcing her to backpedal. Ozai must see the terror in Zuko’s eyes, because he takes one look at his son, dons a cruel smile, turns to Katara, and shoves his blade straight through her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😶 don't hate me! the tags on this story are accurate! next update on wednesday!


	27. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for staying with me! i know i waited longer than usual to update but here it is!!  
> TW: more blood in this one 😶

  
  


_ No.  _

Katara stands gobsmacked with Ozai’s blade jutting straight out of her chest. Her eyes meet Zuko’s, wide and wet with terror; the world drops dead around him. All sound has disappeared from the fight except for a chilling high pitched ringing. Zuko can’t feel his feet, his legs, his hands— his body goes numb as blood drips from the corner of Katara’s mouth.

Ozai rips his blade back out of Katara’s chest, and her legs wobble briefly before she tilts towards the ground. Zuko runs for her as fast as his feet can carry him, watching her fall in slow motion as the world blurs to grey. Dimly he registers when Azula thrusts her own blade through their father’s chest, hopefully right through his heart, but his attention is focused solely on Katara. He skids on his knees and manages to catch her just before her head hits the ground. The bloody water pervading the battlefield seeps through his clothes and chills him to the bone. 

“Katara!” His voice wobbles, and his hand shakes as he brushes wet strands of hair off of her rapidly paling face. “Katara, please, stay with me,” he gasps around ragged breaths.  _ This can’t be happening. _

“Zuko…” Katara’s glowing eyes roll lazily up to meet his. Her voice is gurgling around the blood that continues to seep from her mouth. Her legs are bent at an awkward angle, and Zuko does his best to cradle her to his chest despite how his body shudders.

“It’s okay Katara—” tears fall from his eyes and drip onto the soft skin of her face— “it’s going to be okay, we’ll—”

“No, Zuko—” She turns her head and coughs up more blood. “’m not gonna make it.”

“Katara, please…” She blurs in front of him through the haze of his tears. “Don’t say that, we can figure it out—” She shakes her head. A sob rolls up his throat and falls from his lips like a heavy stone.

“‘s okay, Zuko…” Somehow she manages to raise her hand; he takes it and gently presses it to his scarred cheek. It’s much too cold for his liking. “Love you…” 

“I love you so much, Katara…”

He can’t hold back anymore— ugly sobs wrack his body, making him acutely aware of each wound he’s sustained in the battle, each dark red mark that will become another scar too add to his growing collection. Azula shouts something beside him, but her words don’t matter. Katara bleeds into his shirt, his pants, his hands; he’s covered in it, the liquid nightmare warm and wet on his skin. He swallows past a gag that tries to crawl up his throat as even more blood—  _ why won’t it stop, it needs to stop— _ darkens her lips and drips down her face.

Splashing sounds approach him from behind, and suddenly Sokka is kneeling across from him. His hands are bloody, there’s red splattered across shirt and dappling his unbound hair, but his face is almost as pale as his sisters; the trail of red born from his hairline is vivid against his skin. His wide blue eyes— so like Katara’s— meet Zuko’s.

“Sokka, I’m so sorry,” he chokes out. “I couldn’t— I wasn’t fast enough, I—” Sokka shuffles so that his knees touch Zuko’s underneath Katara’s body. His friend’s shaking hands move to cup his sister’s face, and Katara’s eyes blink open, dazed and unfocused.

“Sokka…” She coughs, and again the dark blood pours from her mouth.

“Don’t—” Sokka’s words are barely audible. “Katara don’t leave me, please— I can’t— you can't leave me too, Katara—” Zuko’s face is wet and strained, and his sobs start anew along with Sokka’s.

“‘m gonna see mom, okay?”

“No, no! Katara, please!” Sokka lowers his head down to touch his forehead to Katara’s. His tears mingle with her blood. Bile crawls up Zuko’s throat, acrid and bitter. “You can’t— you can’t go! Just hang in there, okay? We can fix you, we—”

“‘s okay, Sokka…” Her eyes flutter closed. “Love you…”

“I love you, Katara. I love you so much. Please…” Sokka’s voice trails off in a whisper.

Katara’s hand goes limp against Zuko’s cheek.

“No! Katara, don’t go! Please! Katara!” Sokka’s voice strains over the words, but Zuko’s ears are filled with a horrible ringing that is all too familiar.

He feels the presence of his friends crowded around them; Ty Lee and Aang sob from somewhere behind him. Toph has dropped down to her knees and is crying with her face pressed into his shoulder. Suki hangs onto Sokka, a bloodied hand covering her mouth and staining her cheeks, and Mai sniffles from where she stands beside Suki. If he could feel anything at all, he’d be surprised when Azula kneels next to him and places her hand on his back.

The pounding in his skull barely registers past the numbness that pumps through his veins. Sokka’s pained sobs drive the loss even deeper, a metal stake in his chest, a gaping wound to match the one that marks the woman he loves. Reluctantly he shifts Katara’s limp body into Sokka’s arms. His feet are numb beneath him, but it doesn’t matter.  _ None of it matters. _

“Brother.” Azula speaks up from his side, and he turns to see her melancholic face. Before she can continue he pulls her into his arms and buries his face in her neck. “It’s over, Zuko. He’s gone.” Her words aren’t the comfort he wants them to be. “I’m sorry.”

Endless minutes pass while they sit on the wet ground and mourn. Blood makes his clothes stiff and heavy; he wishes he could tear them off and burn them, destroy the consequences of the battle Ozai had waged against the world without its people even noticing. How many people died for his violent cause? How many families would never see their sons and daughters again? How many children will grow up without a parent, just like he had?  _ Just like Katara had. _ Azula holds him tight; her arms are the only thing keeping his quivering body from slipping to the ground and sinking into the earth.

“Guys…” Ty Lee’s shaking voice manages to get his attention, and he pulls away from Azula to look at her. 

He follows her trembling hand with his eyes, and his heart almost stops in his chest when he looks down at the water. A single, glowing tendril slithers towards Katara’s body and begins to wrap around her limp hand. Sokka gasps, and all of their heads turn towards where it leads back to: The Source. The sparkling water that flows down from the top— so high that it seems to come from the heavens themselves— is now glowing white. The glow spreads slowly throughout the entire clearing, filtering through the blood in the water and leaving only light in its wake. More luminous filaments reach toward Katara to wrap around her body, tangling in her hair and weaving between her fingers.

“Sokka,” Zuko croaks as he makes eye contact with his friend. “Bring her to The Source.”

Sokka nods, and they all rise on shaking legs to make their way towards the base of The Source’s massive trunk. Shining water reaches up and continues to work its way over Katara’s body. It slides over her dangling legs, reminding Zuko of the strange vines back in the swamp.

By the time they reach the cradle of roots that bind The Source to the earth, Katara’s limbs are mostly covered in shifting, shimmering rivulets. Sokka drops down and gently lays his sister into the pool of water collected at The Source’s genesis. At first, nothing happens. Katara’s hair splays out around her head like an earthen halo, and dark blood stains her too-pale lips. Her clothes soak up the water, and the glow follows. Light sews itself into her tunic, seeps into her every pore as it crawls up her body. It closes around her wrists and ankles, sealing her limbs in a cocoon of brilliant white. The water stitches itself closed over her chest, seeping deep into her wound, and glides up her neck and into her mouth. It’s a strange sight— probably the strangest thing Zuko’s ever seen. But he isn’t worried or scared. In fact, as the water closes over Katara’s forehead and takes her completely in its embrace, it almost feels like a comfort.

The water is so bright that it’s turned opaque, and Katara’s entire body is hidden from view. It pulses, a living thing, as it’s drawn more and more into her dark skin. The whole group holds their breath, unsure if The Source is claiming what was once a part of it or if something else is happening entirely. The water thins, and Katara’s whole body lights up, so bright that Zuko has to close his eyes and shield them from the radiant water. When the light fades, he tentatively opens his eyes.

Katara lies in the same place as she was, but her wound is gone. Her clothes are clean and mended, all traces of blood washed away with the sacred water. The color has returned to her face; her cheeks are flushed and he sees her eyelashes flutter. Her chest rises with a deep inhale— the rest of them exhale along with it. Zuko’s heart picks up a rapid pace as Katara’s eyes open. For the span of a breath they glow white, before fading back to their normal luminous blue.

“Katara?” Sokka’s shocked whisper sounds far away through the incessant gallop of Zuko’s heart in his ears. The blood whooshes in his skull in a torrent of life.  _ She’s alive. _

Katara wets her lips, and her eyes dart around before landing on her brother. 

“Sokka? What…” her voice crackles like she hasn’t spoken in years. Her eyes widen, and her hands fly to her chest as she sits up rapidly. Her fingers poke and prod at the place where, moments before, a gaping wound had adorned her body. “What happened? I thought I— oof!”

The air is pushed out of her lungs as Sokka takes her in a tight embrace. Katara’s hands tighten in his shirt as he sobs into her shoulder. Zuko doesn’t want to question everything that just happened; Katara looks as if she’d never left, as if she hadn’t crossed to the other side and left them all to mourn, and then come right back like it’s a trip she makes every day. His heart can’t decide if it wants to pound itself out of his chest or freeze up entirely, and the internal battle is making him dizzy.  _ She’s alive.  _ The words pulse through his head, flowing in and out like the tide. He’s not even sure if what he’s seeing is real until Katara opens her eyes and looks at him over Sokka’s shoulder.  _ She’s alive. _

For a moment that stretches the length of a lifetime, they just stare at each other. Zuko takes in every facet of her blue eyes, the places where they glow the brightest, the flecks of darker blue within the whole. He memorizes the bow of her eyelashes, the way they brush her cheekbones when she blinks. He traces the subtle lines on her face with his eyes, the crease between her brows and the thin line near the top of her forehead that will one day become a wrinkle. The curve of her lip is a cresting wave, her cupid’s bow a rising sun. The tears fall before he even thinks of blinking them back, and when Katara stretches her arm out toward him, he gratefully falls into the awkward shared embrace. It feels like coming home.  _ She’s alive. _

The rest of the group is soon huddled around them— even Mai and Azula— to share their tears. The shock of everything that’s happened in the last few minutes— few hours, few days, ten months— crashes down on his back with a startling intensity that shakes Zuko to his core.  _ Holy shit, we did it. _ The responsibility sloughs from his shoulders like a layer of dead skin, and the absence of weight is palpable. A shudder of relief passes through him, and he feels it echo throughout his friends.  _ It’s over. It’s finally over. _

After what feels like a lifetime, they pull apart. All of them except for Katara are still spattered with blood and sporting various injuries, the worst of which is looking to be Toph’s. The smell of burning flesh is stuck in his nose; he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it.

“Um… what are they doing?” Ty Lee sniffles and points vaguely towards the forest. Zuko turns to see a fair amount of soldiers just… standing around. Staring at them.

“I told them to stand down,” Azula says, her demeanor just slightly more rattled than usual. “Father is gone, and since Zuko was removed from the line of succession, they’re my soldiers now.”

“Wow.” Sokka sits close to Katara’s side with his arm still around her shoulders. “So, does that mean you’re the queen of Ember now?”

Azula looks at Zuko, and he gives her a small nod of encouragement. “I believe so, yes.”

“Woah.” Toph winces as she rises. “Does that mean we can get out of here?” Her face is paler than usual; she’s lost a fair amount of blood, and he realizes that she must be in incredible pain. Not for the first time, he’s in awe of how tough she is.

“Toph!” Katara goes to the other girl’s side, prompting the rest of the group to rise. “What happened?”

“Oh, you know, just a flesh wound.” She lets out a pained hiss as Katara exposes the messy, bloody wound, shoddily cauterized by Zuko in the heat of battle. “I had Sparky put some heat on it to stop the bleeding, but it doesn’t feel great.”

Katara stares at the wound for a long moment, the crease in her brow belying her worry. She looks down at the water beneath her feet, back to its normal crystal clarity, and then back up at Toph’s injury.

“Katara, I appreciate you taking an interest in my health, but this shit isn’t going to heal itself.”

“No, it’s not…” Katara mumbles before drawing the water up to cover her hands. 

“Sugar Queen, I don’t think—”

“I’m just going to try something.” Katara stops in her advance toward Toph’s wound to look at her. “Do you trust me?” 

Toph nods her head, and Katara presses her sheathed hands to Toph’s side. She lets out a pained grunt, and then a long sigh. The water on Katara’s hands has begun to glow, just like it had when it enveloped her in its healing light and brought her back to life. They all look upon the magnificent spectacle, and when Katara pulls her hands away, a gasp echoes throughout the group. Toph’s wound is gone completely, save for a pale pink scar almost the same shade of Toph’s skin.

“How…” Toph pokes at where her wound was, and doesn’t flinch. “How’d you do that? What just happened?”

“I don’t know.” Katara inspects her hands as if the answer is written in the lines of her palms. “I just acted on instinct.”

“It’s The Source,” Ty Lee says, voice overflowing with awe. “It blessed you when it brought you back. Your aura… it’s more shimmery than it was before. I think you have another gift.”

“Another…? Can you even have two gifts?”

“Apparently.” Toph laughs and shakes her head. “I mean, you just healed my nasty stab-wound-slash-shitty-burn— no offense, Zuko—”

“None taken.”

“So I’d say that’s another gift.”

Their collective discovery hangs in the air between them, passing from one person to another through a series of curious and disbelieving eye contact.

“Well, who else is injured?”

Soon each of them is waiting for Katara to heal their injuries. When Zuko steps up to Katara and she lays her hands on his bleeding shoulder, he rests his forehead against hers. The muscle and skin of his shoulder stitches itself together underneath the bright glow.

“I thought I lost you.” His voice cracks, fissures running through the foundation of his composure.

“Remember what you told me?” Katara looks up into his eyes. “We’re going to be together, Zuko. No matter what happens.” 

She takes his face in her hands and guides their lips together. More tears collect in his lashes and trail down over his cheeks, streaking the grime that clings to his skin. The rest of the world quiets around them— his awareness shrinks to Katara’s plush lips, her warm hands at the base of his neck, her soft cheeks under his calloused palms. He can’t tell if the wetness he feels on his cheeks are his own tears, or if maybe Katara is crying too, but none of it matters. What matters is here, pressed up against him, cradled in his hands like the greatest treasure. Her skin thrums with life, each beat of her heart a reminder that she’s here, real and solid in his embrace. The world will have to pry Katara from his cold, dead hands if it wants to take her away again.  _ She’s alive. _

“Remind me to never doubt your intuition again,” he mumbles into the space between them, and Katara laughs. He wants to catch the sound, put it in a locket to hang around his neck and keep close to his heart.

“If you two are done, we have some things to work out now that this is all over.” Mai’s monotone voice breaks them apart, but Zuko keeps his arm slung around Katara’s shoulders.

“She’s right,” Suki says as she surveys the space around them. “Now that this is all over... what’s going to happen to us?”

Silence hangs around them, clinging to the coppery scent of blood that still wafts through the air. It mixes with the ever present smell of flowers, wisteria and dogwood blossoms aromatic as they collect in the water at their feet.

“Well,” Azula starts. “I know I’m going back to Ember. I’m the queen now, after all.” She puts her hand on her hip and inspects her nails with an air of nonchalance that would be strange for anyone but her.

“Are you going back too, Zuko?” Aang looks at him with wide eyes, but Zuko knows his answer before it even passes his lips.

“No. I have no desire to go back there. What about you?” He doesn’t want to assume that Katara wants him to go back to her village, even if she’d said that they would be together. Living with someone is a life altering decision, one that he knows he’s ready to make, but doesn’t want to pressure Katara into.

“I’m going back to Yangchen with Ty Lee.” Aang smiles at Ty Lee, who rests her head against his shoulder. “It’s safe there for Othered, and it’s my home. I can’t wait to tell Gyatso about all of this!”

“Well, I know I’m not going back home.” Toph interjects, and splashes the water with her heel. “No way in hell I'm running back to my parents. I think I’m going to wander around a bit, see where I can get into the most trouble.” Her smile can only be described as wolfish, and Zuko can’t help but laugh.

“Will you be coming back home too, Sokka?” Katara sounds hopeful, but her shoulders sag the tiniest bit when Sokka turns to look at Suki.

“For a little while, yeah. I want to see dad and Gran Gran again. But after that…”

“We want to go back to Kyoshi.” Suki steps in and takes over for Sokka. “But we’ll spend some time with your family before we go.” Katara lets out a heavy breath under his arm, her relief palpable. “I don’t have any family back home; it’s just the warriors waiting for me, so I can take my time getting back.”

“What about you, Mai?” Ty Lee asks. “Will you go back to Shu Jing?”

Mai shrugs. “Probably, yeah.”

“You could come back to Ember. If you want, that is,” Azula offers, a surprisingly authenticity in her voice causing Zuko to pause. “It might be nice to have someone around that I can trust.”

“Sure, why not.” Mai sounds as cool as ever, but he sees the twinge of relief that crosses his sister’s face.

“I’ll work on making Ember safer for Othered.” His sister turns to him with a determined look in her amber eyes. “It’ll take time, but I want you to be able to come back.” She glances at Katara, and he thinks her smile is less of a smirk than usual. “If you want to, that is.”

“Maybe if Ember starts treating Othered a little better, more places will follow their lead!” Aang sounds optimistic, but Zuko doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Well, if that’s all...” Azula surveys the scattered soldiers standing aimlessly around The Source. “I should probably round up what’s left of the army.” 

Her words prompt them all to take a better look around the clearing they occupy. There are still bodies lying at random intervals, some piled on top of each other, most unmoving. Katara sets out to heal whoever is still alive, and Azula gets Suki’s help to round up the remaining soldiers. The rest of their group begins to disperse to help find any more wounded, but Sokka stops Zuko with a hand on his shoulder.

“Zuko…” he trails off. Zuko isn’t really sure what to say either— Katara had died in his arms. They had mourned together for her, cried together and bled together and travelled together as family. “You should come back to the village with us.” Sokka’s blue eyes are soft when he looks into them. “I know Katara wants you there… and I want you there too. You’re family now.” Tears well in Zuko’s eyes; he sees them mirrored in Sokka’s before he’s pulled in for a sturdy hug. 

“If you two are done being sissys,” Toph calls out from where she is trying to lift a groaning soldier off the ground. “Do you think you can lend us a hand? These bastards are heavy!”

Xx

Mai and Azula leave first. The remaining soldiers have all been healed by an exhausted Katara, who is now resting against the roots of The Source. Zuko hugs his sister for a long few minutes before she leaves.

“I’m so proud of you, Zuli.” He doesn’t use the nickname often, but he feels like it’s appropriate now. He doesn’t specify why he’s proud— he doesn’t need to. Azula had survived Ozai’s abuse for three years without him, had betrayed their father in order to protect Zuko and the world from his wrath, and had then killed the King of Ember and immediately ascended to its throne. It would be an accomplishment for anyone, but seeing his little sister grow into a confident woman before his eyes conjures a soft affection in him that he knows she’d scoff at.

“Shut up, Zuzu.” There’s no venom in his sister’s voice, and their embrace lasts for a beat longer before she pulls back. “You are welcome back in Ember, you know. I figure you won’t want to come, but still.” Azula smirks and looks at Katara. “You’re going with her, right?”

Zuko chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “I think so, yeah. If she’ll let me, that is.”

Azula shakes her head. “You are so dense, you know that?”

“Hey, I resent that.”

“Of course she’ll have you, dumb dumb. It’s obvious how much she loves you. Stop doubting yourself for once and just… do what your heart wants you to.” She grimaces and shakes her head as if she’s bitten into a lemon wedge. “Uhg, all these loving words are making me sick.”

He chuckles again and rubs her hair, and she swats him away with a smirk. “Be safe out there, okay? Write me when you get back to Ember.”

“Yes, yes. I can handle myself, you know.” She waves him off, but gifts him with a real smile before she walks off.

Mai and Azula disappear into the forest, the dregs of Ember’s mighty army following along, and the clearing is quiet once again. It’s strange how used to the noise he had become in the hours since they’d gotten to The Source, and stranger still that it’s been less than half a day since they’ve gotten here. The scene still inspires awe, even in its tattered state. Grasses and flowers are tamped into the ground beneath the ever present layer of water, the remains of their battle still haphazardly strewn across the space in the form of abandoned weapons and orphaned armor. They hadn’t known what to do with the mess of bodies, but after they had retrieved any survivors, The Source had taken care of them. The dead had simply sunk into the ground, disappearing in a cloud of bright water and ceasing to exist. The Source connects them all, tethers the whole world to itself, creates life and, apparently, reclaims it in death. Silently they were all thankful for it. The soldiers that had lived witnessed the otherworldly vision of The Source burying the dead, and Zuko hopes that instead of inspiring fear, the sense of peace pervading the area had helped them realize that The Source plays a bigger role in the world than people truly realize.  _ Maybe things can be different in the future. _

They stay the night there, cradled in the roots of The Source. Zuko pulls Katara into his arms as soon as they lie down to sleep, verdant moss under them softer than any bed he’s felt in the last ten months. She sleeps peacefully, but he keeps himself awake and commits every part of her face to memory. He traces her brow with his finger, trails it down her face and over her cheekbone, down the length of her nose, around the curve of her lip and back up her jawline. She doesn’t stir, and he doesn’t wake her. Bright moonlight catches on the dark strands of her hair as he cards his fingers through them. He breathes her in, lavender and thyme and a hint of vanilla. She’s a goddess in her own right, ethereal and soft in the moonlight, blessing him with each exhale against his chest. Her breath imbues him with life, an all-encompassing bliss dependent on the rise and fall of her chest. The excitement and terror of the day catches up with him, and drags him into sleep with his lips pressed against Katara’s crown.

Xx

They part with Toph in Ba Sing Se. It’s as good a place as any for her to start her adventure, and she seems interested in the lower tier of the city and all of its nefarious activity. Katara makes her promise to write to them every time she can; Toph dashes her tears with a dirty hand. The group stays the night in order to rest up for the rest of the journey, and Zuko and Katara go on a hunt for a street vendor selling drinks. The seasonal cider-whiskey isn’t available, but they get something spiced with cloves and cinnamon that burns Zuko’s throat as it goes down. They reenact their previous drunken dance in the privacy of their room at the inn— with a revised ending.

They circumvent the desert, unwilling to go back through the sandy wasteland if they don’t have to. Aang and Ty Lee split from them once they get close to Katara’s village with an emotional goodbye. Promises to write are exchanged, many tearful hugs are shared, and Ty Lee kisses all of them on the cheek before they go. Zuko hugs Aang for a long time— they vow to get together in six months in Yangchen. He watches the man he considers a younger brother fade into the distance, and wipes a tear from his eye.

It’s strange walking back into Katara’s village. He had first stepped into the little market square more than a year ago, but everything looks exactly the same. All of the houses are clutching at the last bits of snow from the winter like a woman to her pearls, just as they were when he had stumbled into the village so long ago. Katara’s little house is the same as it was— the animals out back only a bit bigger, the garden still sparse in the cold weather. 

Katara bursts through the door and falls immediately into the waiting arms of Hakoda and Kanna— they had sent a letter announcing their arrival so that it wouldn't be a surprise, and he’s glad they did. Sokka joins the emotional reunion, and tears are shed by all. Speckle saunters into the room, squeaks with excitement when he sees Zuko, and runs to him so fast that his little legs blur. Zuko scoops him up into his arms and buries his face into the cat’s soft fur, trying not to cry into the purring mass that is Katara’s cat.  _ Did I really miss the cat this much?  _ It’s not just the cat; Katara’s home marks a safe space for Zuko, the first one he had been able to find since he left Ember. Even his childhood home hadn’t been a safe space after his mother died. This house marks a beginning and an end to some of the most pivotal points in his life.

Hakoda and Kanna stay as Katara and Sokka regale their adventure, with occasional input from Zuko and Suki. At one point Zuko’s uncle barges into the house, and after a tearful greeting they start the story all over again so that Iroh can hear it too. Zuko looks at the people around him, laughing and crying and sipping jasmine tea in the light of the hearth; his heart is so full that it feels like it might burst right out of his chest.  _ This is what a family is supposed to feel like. _

By the time the sun sets, they’re all exhausted and eager to bathe and rest. One by one the others file out: his uncle has a room in town, and Sokka and Suki will stay with the rest of Katara’s family. In an instant and a lifetime, the house is empty except for the two of them. They sit by the lit hearth, Katara curled up in Zuko’s lap and Speckle curled up in Katara’s. Warmth wraps around his bones, and his sore muscles finally relax against the worn couch cushions, a year of travelling melting into the fabric beneath him. He breathes into Katara’s hair as he runs his hand through it, soft curls sifting through his fingers.

“I want you to stay.” The soothing rumble of Katara’s voice startles him out of a light sleep.

“You…” His mind takes a moment to catch up to his mouth. “You want me to stay? Like, stay, stay?”

She giggles and turns her face to lay a kiss on his collarbone. “Yes, Zuko. I want you to stay, stay. I want… I want to build a life with you.” Her head tilts so that she can look up at him; the staggering love that he’s come to expect from her gaze hits him like a tidal wave. It’s still hard for him to truly believe that this is his life— that he’s found someone who loves him, that she died in his arms and came back right before his eyes, that he’s blessed enough to have the opportunity to be with her for the rest of his days.

“I want to stay.” He drops his forehead down to rest against hers. The cat jumps from her grasp as Katara turns so that they’re face to face. He takes her face in his hands and dives into the glowing blue of her eyes. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all really thought i'd kill Katara for good??? i hope you didn't actualy think that lol i'm sorry i broke your hearts with that last one but i hope this makes up for it! so, this is the last chapter! the next update will be the epilogue, so technically this is the last one i guess. thank you all so much for reading! i've had so much fun writing this story, and my writing has gotten a lot stronger throughout the process. i'm so, so grateful for all the kudos and comments and all the faithful readers, i can't thank you enough. i love you all an insane amount. let me know what you think!! epilogue will be up friday!


	28. Epilogue

  
  
  


The sun rises with a halo of glowing gold. Warm light slips in through the slats in the shutters; Katara feels its warmth caress her toes and sighs. It’s early— Zuko still lies beside her, his face relaxed in sleep, his body curled and angled towards her. Speckle is a warm mass between their stomachs, sleeping with his nose tucked under a paw and pressed into Zuko’s belly.

This is her family.

Zuko’s face is soft under her fingertips. She traces the outline of his scar, feels where the skin warps at the seam. She runs her finger over the smooth skin of his brow bone, pushes the hair off his face and behind his ear. He’s let it grow in the past year, enough so that the silky black strands reach down to brush his collar. She catches him looking at himself in the mirror sometimes— she knows who he sees staring back at him. On those days she always makes sure to comb it with extra care, to braid it and put little flowers in the folds just to see him smile.

Balmy sunlight crawls up her legs, and eventually Zuko stirs next to her. Dark lashes flutter against his cheekbones before lifting to reveal the glowing eyes she’s grown to love— each morning she watches a private sunrise all her own.

“Good morning.” His voice is rough with sleep and rumbles low through his chest. Speckle’s eyes blink open with the disturbance, and his little jaw stretches open in a yawn.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Zuko smiles and turns his face into his pillow to hide the blush blooming on his cheeks, roses beneath his skin. “Today’s the day.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He shifts towards her, uncaring of the cat as he jumps out of the way and hops off the bed. The long line of Zuko’s body presses up against hers. “How do you think we should start it?” His lips ghost against hers, the words hot against her skin, and when he leans in to kiss her, she knows  _ exactly _ how he wants to start the day.

“Hm…” she hums as Zuko moves to kiss the sensitive skin below her ear. “I can think of a few ways that would be nice…” 

A warm hand trails down her side, and a shudder ripples through her.

“Yeah?” Heat drips down her body from where Zuko’s lips move against her throat, following the trail of his palm and gathering in a rapidly tightening knot somewhere low in her gut. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Xx

After a decidedly fantastic morning in bed, Katara goes about her morning chores as Zuko feeds the animals. A squirming giddiness has taken up residency in her stomach, a perpetual smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, increasing in strength with each minute that passes by. She lays out the clothes they had picked out— nothing fancy, but they’re the nicest clothes either of them have. Katara had sewed the dress in secret, wanting it to be a surprise the first time Zuko saw it. Gran Gran had gotten her the azure silk as a treat for her last birthday, and immediately upon looking at it Katara had envisioned her dress. The simple skirt stretches down to kiss the floor, the fabric ruched just a bit at the waist to create some dimension. The bodice tightens to hug against her skin, the neck dipping in a vee that just touches her solar plexus. Short, gauzy sleeves sit in two layers, giving the dress the air of a clear spring sky. It’s perfect.

The hours pass, the sun dragging through the sky in a lazy arc, reaching its zenith after what seems like a lifetime. Excitement crackles in the air like lightning, jumps between their eyes while she prepares their lunch and Zuko packs their bag. He wraps his arms around her waist from behind, pressing his lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and pulls her back gently to his chest.

“Zuko,” she giggles, and feels his smile against her skin. “If you keep distracting me we’ll never leave the house.”

“I know…” He doesn’t let go. “I just really like you.”

“Do you now?” She turns in his embrace, forgetting about the food on the counter and focusing her attention on Zuko’s shining eyes. “I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Oh, do I not tell you often enough?” he teases, feigning concern, and Katara can’t help but laugh. “Let me remedy that…” He captures her lips in a soft kiss— it matches the day hanging just outside their window; sunny, warm, inviting.

“Seriously, though, we should get going.” She pulls back, reluctant to leave his embrace, but forcing herself to disengage. “Go get changed.”

“Fine, fine.” He retreats with a parting wink.

It still feels so unreal, the easy domesticity they have, the all-encompassing love that flows through their small home, beating like a pulse with each inhale and exhale. This was never the life she expected to have— two years ago she would have been begrudgingly content with existing just as she always had; lonely, just going through the motions without actually feeling anything.  _ I can’t believe it’s been two years.  _ She still remembers the first time she ever saw Zuko. How their eyes caught like a tangled knot in the market square, the gravity that inexplicably pulled her to him even as she ran. Katara had never believed in fate before Zuko showed up in her little village that day, but she isn’t so sure now. It feels like he’s always been meant to be by her side— her loveseat feels a little less big, her kitchen a little less empty. 

“What do you think?”

She has to shake her head to clear her thoughts, but when she sees Zuko in his fine clothes her mind has no trouble clearing itself. It’s nothing incredible— just a finely tailored burgundy shirt and a nicer pair of pants than his usual wear. But something about seeing him so polished, with the top half of his hair neatly pulled back and tied with one of her blue ribbons, makes her feel almost lightheaded.

“I think you’re beautiful.” She loves seeing his blush when she compliments him. It warms her heart almost as much as it warms his face. “And that I’m incredibly lucky to have you.”

“I think I’m the lucky one.” He crosses the kitchen and takes her face in his warm hands before kissing her again. “Now it’s your turn. I want to see this dress you’ve been hiding from me.”

In her room, she pulls the dress on and flattens any wrinkles out by running her hands down the bodice. She lets her hair down (she knows that Zuko loves it that way) and brushes out her curls into soft waves. The pin her grandmother had given her sits propped up on the vanity, a single violet and a sprig of lavender fashioned to it, and Katara uses it to hold back the two small braids that frame her face. She takes a deep breath, and steps back out into the kitchen.

“Well, how do i look?”

Zuko’s eyes trace her figure from head to toe and back up again. She flushes under his gaze, the weight of it is almost palpable. His jaw is dropped, pink lips making a small “o” around his silent admiration. The sunlight coming in from the window sparkles against the tear in his eye.

“Katara…”

She goes to him, biting her lip and trying not to smile too wide lest she get wrinkles. Zuko runs his fingers through her hair, traces her cheekbones with his thumbs, trails his hands down her arms. He touches her like she’s delicate, like he’s holding a star in his hands and if he squeezes too tight it might shatter and fall. Undiluted awe stains his cheeks rosy, brightens his eyes even more so than usual. She feels precious in his grasp.

“You’re so beautiful… I don’t even know what to say.” He huffs a laugh in disbelief, and guides her chin up to meet his lips with hers. “I love you so much,” he mumbles against her lips, and she smiles so wide her cheeks hurt.  _ Damn the wrinkles. _

“I love you too. Now let’s get going!”

They walk hand in hand out of the house and into the sweet-smelling spring breeze. Speckle follows them, weaving between their legs and jumping to paw at the little bugs that fly by occasionally. They walk through the field behind the farm, disregarding the road and instead treading their own beaten path towards their destination. Katara had found this spot last summer, and it had soon become her and Zuko’s favorite place to be.

A small pond sits nestled in a circle of trees. Lily pads perch delicately on the still surface of the water. Koi swim in circles through tangled lotus blossoms that have yet to breach the surface. The grass around the pond is tall and dusted with little purple and white blossoms, growing alongside bright dandelions. Speckle heads immediately to the water, and proceeds to sit on his favorite rock to act as sentinel and watch the fish. Katara shakes out the blanket and lays it on the grass before taking Zuko’s hand and guiding him down to sit with her.

Their meal sits unopened in the basket they had brought along while they indulge in each other. The sunlight cards through the longer strands of Zuko’s hair, shines on his skin and mimics the glow of his eyes. She tastes the day on his lips, crisp spring air blowing over soft daisies, young grass and clear water. His hand hovers over her middle, just below her breasts. It often finds its way there, and always does when they lie down to sleep. She still marvels at the smooth, unscarred skin, the absence of evidence of when she died save for the pain she sees in Zuko’s eyes when he touches her there. Some nights he holds her so tight she thinks she might burst, desperate to keep her here, in this world, by his side. Other nights he lays her out and worships her, whispers love and lust in her ear so low that it vibrates in her bones. Often they’ll curl into each other in front of the hearth, and he breathes her in like she’s the freshest air he’s ever tasted. It feels strange, almost, being treasured and loved in such a way. Even now, as they gaze into each other’s eyes, she feels like she’s the lucky one rather than him.

The sun drips towards the horizon, and just when the golden hour strikes, Zuko takes her hand and guides her to her feet. She presses herself to his chest, her ear to his heart, and listens to the life that rushes through his veins. He strokes her hair and lays a kiss on her head. In her ear he breathes promises of forever, of a life they’ll live together, of children and old age and grandchildren. The future is a sweet symphony, conducted by the stars and performed by their hands. She promises herself to him, vows to give him everything she is— as if she hasn’t already placed her heart in his chest and let her soul entwine with his. He pulls out a necklace: a bone pendant carved with the image of a tree held on a thick purple ribbon. It sits in the hollow of her throat, the size and shape made just so. It feels like it’s always meant to be there.

They hold each other as the light recedes with the setting sun. Fireflies spark to life all around them and reflect off the water, constellations of their own coalescing in the heavenly body of the pond. Katara hums the song her mother had always sung to her when she was young, and the two of them sway in the night, witness only to the moon and stars. And the cat, of course, who purrs as he weaves between their legs without a care in the world.

“Katara...” Her name is a hymn sung to the choir of the night. “I’m so in love with you… you make every part of me brighter.” 

“Thank you, Zuko.” Her lips ghost against his neck. The warmth that bleeds from his skin into hers is soothing, lulling her into a soft contentedness.

“For what?” She feels his breath puff out against her hair.

“For everything.” She pulls back to look into his eyes— the glow is stark against the dark backdrop of night, and she’s struck anew with a love she never thought she’d have. “For showing up here two years ago. For taking me with you, for showing me the world. For being here.”

Zuko kisses her forehead, her brow, her nose, and just before he takes her lips in his, he whispers, “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all, this is it! the end! i made it extra fluffy for you guys since chapter 26 was such a heartbreaker. thank you all so, so much for reading. i seriously can't explain how much all the comments and kudos and love have meant to me. you're all amazing people and i'm so, so happy that you enjoyed this story. i worked really hard on it and i'm ecstatic that you liked the worldbuilding and all that fun stuff. thank you all, and i love you all endlessly ❤

**Author's Note:**

> and that's that! thanks for reading!


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